Dallas 2012 Spinoff - John Ross and Pamela
by Etta Garber is Rhea Harmsen
Summary: Is it possible to ever get back something you've destroyed? Can John Ross ever redeem himself after causing Pamela to attempt suicide? No. Never. Not in a million years. Unless...
1. Season 1, Episode 1 - Survive

Dallas 2012 Spinoff - John Ross and Pamela,

Season 1, Episode 1 - Survive

John Ross is sitting next to Pamela's hospital bed. He's feeling pretty crappy. The woman he loves has taken a massive dose of pills in an attempt to end her life, after finding out he's betrayed her. Her stomach's been pumped but she might still die. She hasn't regained consciousness yet.

The same thoughts are going round and round in his head and the flashbacks keep coming. His mother had warned him not to hurt Pamela like this. He had never meant for her to find out. He always meant to end it with Emma, as soon as he got what he needed from her. He was just doing what he had to do for business. Just making one more play. But Pamela was the love of his life, and now he could lose her for good.

His heart had nearly stopped when Pamela discovered him and Emma in the Omni Hotel. He knew he was caught and there was no explaining it away. When that freaky thing happened, when she said, "May I join you?" he was horrified. As addicted as he was to sex, he had never in his wildest imagination contemplated sharing his wife in a threesome. But he thought in some weird way, if he played along, he would still have a chance with her. But when she started to seize up, unable to breathe, and they found the pills she'd ingested, he realized what was happening. He was getting the most horrible comeuppance a scoundrel like him could get. His wife had figured a way to punish him, kill his libido for life, and shame him, all in one masterful stroke. And Emma, too. She had made them both a party to her suicide.

That's how much he had hurt her. He'd hurt her so much she was throwing away her life. Of course. It had been the last straw for her. He could see it now. She felt she had no one, no reason left to live. After all she'd been through, with her father blowing up the rig when she was on it, killing her twin babies. She'd come to believe in John Ross, to trust him, to believe he was the one person who wouldn't hurt her.

If only she survived, he would make her understand what she meant to him. He would do anything. He would take all the blame for his behavior. If only she wouldn't hurt herself. It was his fault, not hers.

A moan came from the woman on the bed. She was slowly opening her eyes. "Pammie?"

She moved both hands to her stomach, as if it hurt. The doctor had said the after effects of the stomach pumping could be painful. "What's the matter, honey? You in pain? I'll get the nurse."

Pamela's eyes were wild now, she seemed to be remembering how she had gotten here. "Baby, hang on, it's gonna get better. I'm gonna make it better…" he said, even as he knew how lame that sounded. "Nurse, get in here!"

And then it happened. Pamela shrieked like a disembodied thing and started pulling at her gown and hair, and trying to rip the IV out of her arm. "I want to be dead. Why am I not dead?" she raged.

"Pamela, calm down, now. Baby, don't hurt yourself. Stop." He tried to hold her down. This just infuriated her further. She shrieked and snarled and fought him with all her might. "I want to be dead!"

Several nurses and doctors came in and held down her arms and legs, she was so demonically strong. "We're going to give her a sedative."

The sedative knocked her out.

"What happens now?" he asked the doctor.

"Well, she needs to be under the care of a psychiatrist. If she's still actively determined to commit suicide she needs intervention and security."

"I want the best care for her that money can buy." John Ross Ewing asserted. But from then on it just got worse. Any time she came near to consciousness the rage began again. It seemed she couldn't live with the pain in her head.

"We can't keep her sedated forever," A handsome, compassionate psychiatrist named Dr. Macnamara, who had been called in to consult, said. "We have to find a way to deal with the pain she's feeling so she can tolerate being conscious."

They transported her while she was sedated to his private clinic, with state of the art facilities that catered to the well endowed.

When John Ross saw her settled safe in a bed he ran to the penthouse to shower and change for the first time in days.

When he got back to her room she was in a full on rage, being restrained by several bulky orderlies. Seeing him just intensified her state so the doctor yelled to the orderlies, "Get him out of here."

He stood outside her room for a few minutes, tears running down his face while he heard her howl and then a nurse quickly ushered him out of the hallway into the doctor's office. This room was filled with TV monitors. He watched in horror as they got Pamela sedated again, then put her in a straight jacket and carried her to the padded cell. The last scene he saw, before the doctor walked in and switched off the monitors was his wife's body lying inert on a padded cell floor, restrained by a straightjacket.

"Why do you have to keep her in a straightjacket if she's in that cell?" he asked.

"Because, even though we've cut her nails as short as they can be cut, she can still do damage to herself."

"Can't you give her some other kind of medication?"

"Mr. Ewing, your wife has suffered a break. Now, we will try to ameliorate her state by giving her some meds, but ultimately, her recovery depends on her being able to cope with reality."

Now John Ross asked the question he was mortally afraid to ask. "And is there hope, Doc, of her recovering?"

"There is always hope," the compassionate man said, touching his arm in a familiar way. "But I'm going to need you to tell me her story. Every last possible detail. I need to know why she wants so badly to die."

After an hour session with the doctor, where he revealed the life and trials of Pamela Barnes Ewing as if it were a tragic, seedy movie, with him playing a title role, he left the clinic and headed straight for a bar. The barkeep poured him a triple Bourbon and Branch and he picked up the glass.

His purpose was to try and erase the picture of his beloved wife laying on the floor of that cell. The place where his careless actions had put her.

As he looked at his reflection in the mirror he had a momentary flash of his drunk mother. It stopped him in his tracks and he put the glass down. Then he said to himself, "You know what John Ross? You don't get to drown your sorrows. If Pamela's in hell, then you're going to be in hell right along side her. No escape for you. It's the least you owe her."

End of Episode 1


	2. Season 1, Episode 2 - Kept Apart

John Ross and Pamela, Season 1, Episode 2 – Kept Apart

After a short night's sleep John Ross got up and went to the hospital. He didn't like what he heard.

"I'm afraid it's not a good idea for you to be here," Doc Macnamara said. "Now that I know what precipitated the events, I feel that your presence will just exacerbate her pain. I'm sorry Mr. Ewing, but you're going to have to stay away and trust us to do our best for your wife."

He walked out of there feeling worse than anything. In the parking lot he turned on the car radio loud enough to blow out his ear drums and started going through his text messages. There were at least ten from his aunt Annie asking him to call. He shut off the radio to listen to his voice mail.

"John Ross, darling, there's been a fire at Southfork. Your mother…ah…darling, call me. Or come to Dallas General Hospital."

"Jesus!" His mother was in a fire? Was she alive? Was she burned?

He was choking down tears the whole way there, "Please God. Oh God. I deserve it. But don't take my Mama away from me too."

He ran in to the burn unit and immediately found Anne and Emma sitting there.

"John Ross, where have you been?!" his aunt Annie hugged him desperately.

"My Mama, where is she? Is she…is she…dead?" his voice broke.

His eyes connected with Emma's for a split second. She was looking at him with such empathy in her blue eyes. Why hadn't she told her mother about Pamela? Probably to cover her own ass. The same reason he hadn't called everybody at Southfork to hold vigil with him. Shame.

"John Ross, you have to be strong now. Your Mama was in the house when the fire broke out. Your uncle Bobby and Christopher tried to find her, and I guess, I guess they were looking for me as well."

"Cut to the chase, Aunt Annie, tell me how my Mama is. Is she dead?"

"No darling, she's alive, but—"

"Where is she? I want to see her!"

"Down the hall in the ICU. But John Ross, there's more you should know."

He ran to the nurse's station, shouting for Sue Ellen Ewing's room. He was led into a room with a plastic tent around a bed. He looked in it and saw his mother laying there, as beautiful as she had always been. But mortally still. She wasn't breathing on her own. Some machine was breathing for her.

"What's the matter with her?"

"She's inhaled a lot of smoke, they're not sure she'll pull through," Annie answered. "Bobby and Christopher did too," she added.

"Christ!"

"But they're in better shape. As a matter of fact Christopher was released yesterday," she went on. "Pamela's car was gone, so we know nothing happened to her. But we haven't heard from her."

Now John Ross couldn't put it off any longer. "She tried to commit suicide two nights ago, Aunt Annie. Because of something I did," he said, looking at the floor.

The sharp intake of breath made him look up into her eyes. "I know what you did, John Ross. You and Emma. Sue Ellen and I were with Pamela when they sent her that horrible tape."

"What tape?"

"The disgusting tape of you and my daughter having…sex."

"My mother saw that?"

"Yes. She was broken hearted for Pamela. And herself too. She said it reminded her of all the pain your father put her through."

John Ross couldn't take this anymore. He walked out of there to get some much needed air. His throat was threatening to close up. He couldn't breathe.

Outside in the parking lot he walked to and fro. His mother had been hurt by his actions too. After he had done that monstrous thing, having her committed. He'd put her in a place like Pamela was in now. And the reason for it was greed, pure and simple. So that he could have control of the vote on the Ewing Energies board.

He walked slowly up the stairwell again, to go be near his mother. At the top of the stairs Emma was waiting for him.

"Couldn't tell your Mama what happened, huh?" he said to her.

"Never. I don't want her to ever know what happened in that hotel room."

"It's too late. She saw a tape of you and me somebody sent Pamela. Didn't she tell you?"

"Somebody? Who?"

"As a matter of fact," John Ross now grabbed her by the throat and pushed her up against the wall, "How do I know it wasn't you who sent that?"

"Let go of me. I would never do that. I like Pamela."

"Then how come you haven't asked me if she's dead or alive?" he said, letting her go.

"How is she?"

"She's out of her mind. It broke. We broke it. They got her locked up in a padded cell and sedated so she won't kill herself. "

Somehow, it was oddly comforting to be able to talk to the other perpetrator in honest terms. The tears were now streaming down his face and he was wiping them with his fingers.

Emma came closer and took his face in her hands and put her lips on his. He grabbed her hands and yanked them off his face. Then he took several steps back. "You and I are over. This can never happen again."

"But I can make you feel better," she said, moving forward.

"Don't ever put your hands on me again. Stay away from me, you hear?" he pulled the door open and there was Annie. He pushed past her and kept on his way. Let her deal with her daughter.

He met Christopher in Bobby's room and got the scoop on the condition of Southfork and who they thought was responsible. Christopher was pursuing that. He didn't care about it. Southfork was the least of his worries.

He was back at the Psychiatric clinic the next morning.

"Mr. Ewing, I thought I had explained the situation to you," Doctor Macnamara was gentle but condescending.

"I can't be away from her. I need to see her every day, even if it's just on the monitors." He pleaded. "I want to know how she's doing."

"Well, I need to let you know that I'll be trying a new experimental approach with her. It involves hypnosis."

"Hypnosis?"

"Yes. If we can compartmentalize her mind, putting all the painful stuff away in a box, maybe we can make her functional again. It's experimental, but it might work."

"Do it, Doc."

"Mr. Ewing, please understand, I can't just wave a magic wand. It will take months of work to build the walls she needs. And even if we succeed she will always be kind of fragile. You would have to protect her from strong trauma, from people who might talk to her about these things and break down the walls."

John Ross reflected, on his drive out to Southfork. If he could get back any part of her, he wanted it. Even if they had to brainwash her and keep all her painful memories apart. Maybe that would be for the best.

In the padded cell, Dr. Macnamara was trying to coax a wild and cagey Pamela to accept hypnosis. "Listen to me, Pamela. I can get you relief. You don't have to suffer. Listen to the sound of my voice…"

End of Episode 2


	3. Season 1, Episode 3 - Flowers

John Ross and Pamela, Season 1, Episode 3 – Flowers

Three months later John Ross walks into the clinic with his usual offering for his wife, a small bouquet of cut flowers. Sometimes they were blue delphiniums, sometimes delicate white orchids. But it was always something. She didn't know they came from him, he just wanted something from him to be near her.

He checked both ways to make sure he wasn't going to be bumping into her. The Doc had impressed _that_ upon him enough times. But then, the exact thing he was trying to avoid happened. The Doc's door opened and Pamela was coming out of it.

John Ross froze on the spot. He didn't know what he should do. But his eyes devoured her. She was ever so beautiful in that still, regal fashion.

She spoke first, "John Ross. You came to see me." She said it softly, like she was surprised.

"How are you, darling?" He didn't try to touch her.

She looked to the Doc to see what she should answer. He could tell the Doc was a little bit irritated with him. He'd warned him so many times to stay away.

"I'm getting better. Right, Doc?"

"Yes, Pamela. We still have some work to do, but you're getting better every day."

"When can she come home, Doc?" John Ross blurted out, before he could stop himself.

"Nurse, will you take Mrs. Ewing back to her room now?" the Doctor smiled at Pamela. "You've done very good work today Pamela. You can get some rest now. It's okay, go with Kelly now."

John Ross watched as she went away, docile. His hungry eyes took in every detail, smiling at her as she looked back at him.

"Oh, wait." He lunged forward, proffering his flowers. "These are for you."

She took them and examined them from every angle. "They're beautiful. So…the flowers were from you." The nurse ushered her away gently as she cradled them to herself.

John Ross let out one big sigh of relief as he turned to face the Doc. "Now, that didn't go so badly." He tried to make amends to the doctor as he went into his office.

"Maybe." The doctor answered in one word.

"I know I probably should have talked to you first, but how about it? When can she come home with me?"

Now the Doc didn't spare any words."Mr. Ewing if you think that you can have your wife back to play house with, to…to have sex with her, as if nothing had happened-"

"Now hold on a minute Doc, who do you take me for?" He felt himself color up in shame. But at the same time he wasn't gonna let some Ivy League nerd head he was paying a fortune to, make him feel like a pervert. "I have never in my life forced myself on a woman and I'm not about to start now." he spat back, with the force people had come to associate with John Ross Ewing.

The Doctor now chose his words more carefully. "Mr. Ewing I didn't mean to suggest any such thing. But you have to understand the fragility of your wife. She is highly suggestible. Her desire to please others might cause her to do things that ultimately might not be the best thing for...Pamela herself."

There was a reason he had never said to the doc, "Call me John Ross." He wanted to preserve the proper relationship between them, because the doc had the tiniest tendency to speak condescendingly to him.

"How can I explain it to you," Dr. McNamara said. "Your wife is like a de-clawed kitten. She has no defenses. Anybody can take advantage of her."

John Ross ignored the obvious innuendo, that he himself would try to take advantage of her fragile state, and said, "Well, I would be taking her home to Southfork. No one would harm her within our property."

"Then there's the issue of the familiar surroundings," the Doc Countered. "Anything might trigger a memory. The smallest trinket in her room. Here, we have a controlled environment."

"Doc, you might have heard that we had a fire at Southfork. We've had to rebuild. I made a completely new master suite for Pamela. Everything in it would be new. No reminders."

"I'm afraid we'll have to continue this conversation another day, Mr. Ewing. I'm scheduled for rounds about now," he said, standing up.

"Sure, Doc." He knew when he was being stonewalled.

The next day he was especially careful in the flowers he selected. They were a short bouquet of roses. The shade was a very gentle blush pink. Nothing overwhelming. Just a subtle reminder he was around.

He took a different car, one with tinted windows, to the clinic and waited in the parking lot until he saw the doctor leave the premises.

"Hi." He said to the nurse at the station. "How's my wife today?"

"She's been fine Mr. Ewing. But if you want more information about her condition you'll have to talk to Dr. McNamara.

"Well, I brought her some flowers. Is there any chance that I could give them to her myself? Just for a minute?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Ewing but Dr. McNamara left strict instructions that she's not to receive any visitors."

He handed over the flowers. "Perhaps you can give these to her and tell her they're from me."

"Oh these are beautiful Mr. Ewing. She's going to love these."

"Does she ever ask about me?"

"As a matter of fact she just asked about you today, sir."

"What exactly did she say," he pumped.

"Oh well, she just wondered how come you'd never come to visit before."

As he drove home he felt all kinds of furious. That stupid punk ass doctor had been telling him to stay away for months and Pamela had been asking for him? He hated that doctor.

Yeah, he'd been living like a monk for three months. But that didn't mean he would jump Pamela as soon as he got her home. He would never do anything to make her sad again.

But who was he kidding? He knew he didn't deserve another chance after what he'd done. The only reason she smiled at him yesterday was because she didn't remember.

Bruno Mars came on the car radio singing one of his ballads.

"I should've brought you flowers  
and held your hand  
given you all my hours  
when I was your man."

By the time the song was halfway through, tears were streaming down John Ross' face because he was so afraid he might've blown it for good and would never have another chance with Pamela.

The following morning Dr. McNamara had his usual hypnosis session with Pamela. She was lying on the patient couch with her eyes closed, already under the influence. He started to speak softly to her.

"Now Pamela, the time has come to give you back a few of your claws. We don't want you to be out in the world completely unprotected. So, any time someone touches you in a private way, and you feel uncomfortable, you won't feel well, you will shut down and move away from them."

Now he got up from behind his desk and approached her. "Is that clear to you Pamela?" he asked.

"Yes Dr. McNamara," she replied, sweetly.

"That's a good girl, Pamela," he said, "You're a very good girl."

End of Episode 3


	4. Season 1, Episode 4 - Homecoming

John Ross was nothing if not determined. Being bullheaded always made him follow his own lead. Once again John Ross tried to arrive at the doctor's office exactly at the moment he knew Pamela would be ending a session. He did this for about a week, always there with the flowers to exchange a few words and let her know he was there for her.

The doctor tried hard to conceal his irritation. John Ross didn't give a damn. He was always working his own plan. Today was no different.

"Ain't it a fine day today, darling," he said, in front of the doctor, "Care to take a stroll with me in the garden?" Then he turned, "That would be okay wouldn't it, Doc ?"

In the garden he opened the gate for her. "So what do you do with all your time?"

"Not very much." She answered. "Actually, I'm very bored."

"Is that a fact? Well, you know at Southfork we have a pool and horses and every kind of entertainment you could possibly want. I don't suppose you'd be bored there."

"When can I go home?" She asked, looking at him earnestly with those baby blues.

He spluttered. "Darling, anytime you're ready. They're dying to have you."

"They?" She asked, and he could see she was uneasy at the idea of other people.

"I built us our own little apartment, honey. You can have all the privacy you want."

"Okay," she smiled softly, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Alright, let's go pack your bags then!"

"Mr. Ewing I must object in the strongest terms. You have no idea how dangerous this is. How precarious, how fragile your wife's stability is. I must say, this is selfish on your part. She isn't ready."

John Ross was becoming less sure of himself by the moment, with the Doc practically yelling at him. But he wasn't about to let it show.

"Doc, she was the one who asked me to come home. I'm not the one who's going to deny her anything she wants."

The Doc looked surprised for a moment then sneered, "I have no doubt you manipulated her into thinking so. But she needs security, a stable environment. Not- to go back to the same situation that put her here in the first place."

"You don't have to worry, Doc. I have changed my wicked ways. I will never cheat on my wife again. All I want in this life is her happiness."

"Her treatment is not completed. You may think you have a docile wife, but all that self destructive rage is just pent up and very close to the surface."

"Well she can continue treatment. I promise I'll bring her back for every appointment. Faithfully. Word of honor."

Not even that appeased him. "You're very reckless, Mr. Ewing. Very reckless. I hope you don't live to regret it." He shook his head bitterly.

John Ross got out of there to look for a place where he could call home and warn them of Pamela's coming. That doctor had freaked the shit out of him. He had to make sure there wouldn't be any awkward encounters. He had spent all his time preparing the place but not the people.

But as luck would have it he bumped into Pamela, ready with her bag.

The Doctor hid his displeasure and smiled at Pamela. "I expect to see you for our sessions every day then."

"Can I come every other day Doctor?" she asked.

There was a slight hesitation. "As you wish."

In the car John Ross was cheerful and tried to buy time. "How about we go and get the biggest burger to celebrate your freedom. No? Ice cream?"

"I just want to go home," she smiled.

"Southfork it is then."

When they get to Soutfork John Ross just parked the car and slipped her right into the new master suite. He proudly introduced her to every feature of the apartment until they came to the bed.

"Look, I can sleep in another room if you... if you need some space. I don't want you to feel any pressure..."

His libido leapt up like a flame when she said, "John Ross I don't want to be alone." But then he was left hanging when she said, "But you're right, let's take it slow."

What the hell did women mean anyway when they said that?

After a quiet dinner with Annie and Bobby ( thank God everyone else was out), he found himself preparing for bed with Pamela, who said, "I didn't realize how tired I was."

He watched her surreptitiously as she slipped under the covers beside him and proceeded to go to sleep.

There would be no sleep for him. He was fully aroused and just wanted to feast his eyes on her. Every curve of her face he examined. Every time she moved he was moved too, like someone was stirring the embers of a dying campfire. Each timed he dosed off he was awakened again to suffer the same sweet torture. He remembered all over again that she was beside him. It was like getting exactly what you wanted on Christmas morning. And then he felt that twinge of fear, and conscience. Like the other shoe was about to drop.

Somewhere in the middle of the night she began to whimper. Tiny sounds that horrified and alarmed him. He thought she was reliving the horrors of her suffering in a nightmare. "Noooo. Don't do that. Don't touch me there."

John Ross got off the bed now, and vowed that he would sleep on the couch from now on. He didn't want a wife that was afraid of him, who didn't want him to touch her.

The next morning John Ross and Pamela were having a quiet breakfast at the kitchen table when one by one the family started to appear. First Annie, then Bobbie and Christopher come in from outside. When Sue Ellen showed up, because it was the weekend, he began to feel there were too many people at Southfork.

How was he going to manage his mother so she wouldn't start asking Pamela impertinent questions. She was like a loose cannon.

No sooner was Sue Ellen settled at the table with her cup of tea, the door opened again. This time John Ross' heart literally stopped. What in the hell was Emma doing there?

The cold breeze seemed come in with her. A chill settled on everyone in the room.


	5. Season 1, Episode 5 - Hot and Cold

John Ross and Pamela, Season 1, Episode 5 – Hot and Cold

There was a perceptible chill that came over the room when Emma walked in on breakfast at Southfork. Even though John Ross had not had a formal sit down with the family to explain what things they should talk about with Pamela and what they shouldn't bring up, everyone in the room knew that this was an awkward situation.

Emma most of all. She looked at Pamela with clear apprehension in her eyes. But Pamela's reaction was very warm, she immediately got up from the table and went forward to kiss Emma on the cheek.

"I know it's been a long time since we've seen each other," she said, "But I'm still the same. How are you doing? What's been going on in your life? I've been in a mental institution. Ha ha Ha!"

Then she turned around and looked at it everybody else and said, "Come on everybody, don't worry I'm not going to spaz out."

A ripple of laughter went around the room along with a measurable sigh of relief that Pamela didn't remember what John Ross and Emma had done to her.

John Ross tried to catch Emma's eye, just to shoot her a warning, but she was too busy sitting next to Pamela and talking, like they were old girlfriends.

Uncle Bobby and Christopher were talking to him, trying to get everybody interested in going to see a Cowboys game the next day as a family. Uncle Bobby was forever trying to get them to be a better family.

But John Ross' heartbeat wouldn't settle down. There was something very creepy about seeing your wife buddy buddy with your ex mistress. He didn't trust Emma.

But it was Sue Ellen who put her foot in it. "What now Pamela? What did the doctors say? Are you home for good?" she asked, across the table.

Pamela looked up, wide eyed.

"Not now, Mama," John Ross rescued her. "We're not going to talk about any of that stuff. We're just going to take it one day at a time. And we'd appreciate it if you would all help us with that."

"Of course, of course." everybody seemed to be on board.

"Well if you all don't mind I'm going to show Pamela the new stuff on the ranch," John Ross jumped at the chance to break it up. "How about that darling? Would you like to go for a horseback ride with me?"

"Sure," she answered, as he got her hand and pulled her out of the chair.

"I'll walk down to the stables with you two," Emma said.

John Ross must've looked really taken aback, because Annie jumped in and said "Oh honey, just wait a few minutes, I'd like to talk to you."

"Relax mama," she laughed "It's not like I was about to join them and make it a threesome. I'm just going to practice my dressage," she said.

John Ross could've strangled the little bitch for her using the word threesome like that. But he was more worried about Pamela so he whisked her out of there.

At the stables she said, "John Ross, I don't know if I can drive a horse. I still feel a little shaky."

"It's all right, honey. Samson here can take the both of us." He brought the stallion out of his stall.

"Are you sure he won't mind?"

"Hell no. Samson here is an awesome mighty stud." He patted the black horse on the neck. "He can handle anything."

He climbed atop the horse and held out his hand to her. "Step on my boot there, darling. No, use the other foot."

As he hoisted her body and swung her around to sit in front of him she gasped, "Oh my god, it's so high."

"Don't worry baby, I got you. Trust me." He put one arm around her waist and held the reigns with the other.

Pamela leaned back against John Ross and closed her eyes for a moment. She felt the slow easy pace of the horse walking forward. By and by she opened her eyes and saw that they were in a forest of tall pines and grassy floors. Slowly, he picked up the pace and they climbed a gentle slope. Soon they came out on the ridge, where undulating hills as far the sky stretched before them. The distant herd moved slowly, driven by a handful of cowboys that knew their trade. John Ross guided Samson to flow along side of the heard. Pamela had never been this close to the grandiose spectacle that was the heart and soul of Texas. It was breathtaking.

She had both hands on the pommel. John Ross had let Samson have his head and he had slowly picked up speed to outrun the heard.

"Scared?" John Ross whispered in her ear.

Pamela realized she was thrilled to the core. She felt like she was flying. At a high altitude and without a net. But she wasn't one bit afraid because John Ross was holding her and she trusted his strength, his skill, his sheer masculinity. She felt safer than she had ever felt in her life. It was the kind of feeling she had longed for and that she had never gotten from her father.

She turned a bit in the saddle to smile at him. "No. I'm not scared. It feels wonderful."

John Ross had forgotten all his worries. For him there was nothing but the moment. The past few months, those horrible months when he was afraid she wouldn't recover her sanity, drifted away. He felt her slight body against his, stirring up his pulse. He could have put his lips on her hair, kissed her neck, whispered in her ear. But he held himself in check. He merely reigned in Samson by a creek and dismounted, reaching up to help her down off the horse. Her body brushed his as he slid her down.

Pamela felt warm inside. She was so keyed up and afraid it would show that she wanted him to take her in his arms and make wild love to her in this secluded mossy spot.

"Thank you, John Ross," she whispered.

He looked into her eyes, put her hand on his chest and said, "Feel my heart, darling."

Pamela knew what would happen next and she wanted it. His smoldering eyes were devouring her. He bent his head and took her lips. She felt a visceral thrill and a melting in her core.

And then a horrible panic overcame her. She couldn't breathe almost.

"Pamie?" He tipped his head sideways in that characteristic fashion, as she slipped through his fingers, backing away from him.

When he reached out and pulled her back into his arms he heard a strangled whimper, "Don't touch me!"

He dropped her arms as if they had burned his fingers.

She backed away wildly until she collided with Samson, whose discipline did not allow him to get spooked. So great was Pamela's panic attack that she grabbed the pommel, stuck her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself upon him.

"Pamela don't!" John Ross moved forward.

But she reeled the horse around and kicked him so hard in the sides that he had to obey and he leapt forward, leaving the scene at a breakneck pace.

"Pamela!" John Ross could only yell, as his wife ran away from him.

It was near sundown when John Ross reached the stables on foot and in a bad mood. He had kicked himself and cursed himself for making a move on Pamela. He had agonized about her safety and jogged home at no mean speed. But they had been nigh on ten miles out when they first dismounted. Even with all the shortcuts it had taken hours for him to get back on foot. He had not called anyone to pick him up because he didn't want to explain why his wife had bolted on him.

Emma emerged from a stall. "What's the matter John Ross? Trouble in paradise?"

Had she been loitering around the stables this late in the hopes of ambushing him? "My only trouble is I've got a serpent in my paradise."

He went to Samson's stall to check that he was alright. He was stomping around with his saddle still on him. Could he have arrived alone or had she just neglected to take the saddle off? Was she laying out there on the range somewhere? He took off running up to the house, his heart in a panic.

He opened the door to their room and at first it seemed empty. "Pamela?"

He saw her then, sitting in the corner of the room, on the floor, her back up against the wall. "Honey? You alright?" he dropped down on his knees, at the same time catching his breath.

She shrunk away from him. It pained him.

"I need to be alone, John Ross," she said, faintly. He had trouble even hearing her.

"Have you eaten anything today, Pamela?" Had she even had some water?

"I need to be alone," she repeated, a little louder.

"Alright, I'll give you your space. But I'll bring you a tray first."

He brought back a tray and set it on the floor in front of her, then he went to the closet to grab some sweats. When he came back she hadn't touched anything so he opened the bottle of water and said, "Drink."

She flinched again. He couldn't take it anymore so he left, closing the door softly behind him.

He was in another bedroom upstairs, but unable to relax. What if she did something to hurt herself? He couldn't push his way in there, what if it caused her to break? He flashed back to the terrible rage episodes, the Pamela that wanted to be dead. He cursed his pigheadedness, his impatience to get her out. What if the Doc was right? She was suffering.

John Ross got up now, and barefoot, he let himself out a window and unto the roof. Very carefully, he walked to one of the skylights to his and Pamela's suite. He got down on his belly and looked in. He saw her, still sitting in the same spot. The tray and even the water, were untouched.

It was the longest night of his life, now exceeding the other vigils he had spent next to Pamela's hospital bed. He nearly froze, but he kept silent watch, hoping she would exhaust herself and climb into the bed. But she didn't move at all.

What hellish labyrinth of the mind was she caught in? What monsters inhabited that space with her? Tomorrow, he would take her back to the Doc.


	6. Season 1, Episode 6 -Boxed In

John Ross and Pamela, Season 1, Episode 6 - Boxed In

John Ross woke up with a start. Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning he had dozed off on the roof while watching Pamela. The sun was already high in the sky and made it hard to see through the skylight. But when his eyes adjusted and he looked, she was gone. He got up quickly and walked back to the window he had come out of the night before. He ran down the stairs to his room. He stopped in front of the door to collect himself. He let himself in quietly. She wasn't there.

"Alright, don't panic." He told himself.

He went to the kitchen and found his aunt there.

"Have u seen Pamela, Aunt Annie?"

"Last I saw she was headed for the pool."

He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. When he approached the pool, though, he heard her and Emma laughing.

Quickly, he retraced his steps and got on some swimming trunks in the bedroom and grabbed a beer in the kitchen and sauntered out to the pool.

"Ladies. How's the water this morning?"

He ignored Emma, whose eyes were sliding down his body like an addict in withdrawal, and looked straight at his wife. She smiled at him so unreservedly he wondered if he had imagined all that had happened the night before.

"You okay, baby?" He asked.

"Never better. Emma's been cracking me up." She looked at her with real affection.

John Ross purposely didn't, when he said, "You move back in Emma?"

"No John Ross, I just stuck around because I'm going to the football game this afternoon with y'all," she answered.

He looked at Pamela. "Did u want to go to that, darling? You don't have to."

"I'm looking forward to it." She said, and leaned over to squeeze his hand. He held those fingers ever so slightly, but they were his lifeline.

Emma got up, stretched her body and walked into the pool.

He sat back in the lounger, still holding Pamela's hand. "This is pretty nice." His heartbeat was beginning to normalize. He wouldn't bring up last night unless she did.

Pamela thought it was pretty nice too. She loved him. She wanted to be near him all the time. It was like a fever. But look at how messed up she was. Full of freakish contradictions. She wanted John Ross but couldn't let him love her. And he was being so patient, like he had always had been. So loving and unselfish, always concerned about her well-being. She felt it even when he didn't show it. He was her knight in shining armor. God, how she loved this man. Nothing would ever change that.

_Weeks later_

John Ross was in his office, but as usual he was thinking about his wife.  
Pamela was now in more danger than ever. All because of the company. They were circling her like buzzards around a carcass. Now that she had been released and was better, there were any number of attacks to be expected. Not only could someone try again to send her video of his affair, someone could also try to talk to her about their framing of her father for JR's death.

She was the only thing standing in the way of a complete takeover of Ewing Global by Nickolas Trevino and his shady backers. The fact that she had become incapacitated by a breakdown and he had had to assume control of her shares had been the only glitch in their perfect plan to take over during the IPO. He had had bum trace the source of that videogram to Pamela's cell. Their nefarious plan, instead of turning her against the Ewings, had caused her to have a breakdown.

But now, if they got wind that her precarious recovery was because her memory had been boxed up, they might try to do it again. And even though Emma had not been the one to send the tape the first time, he didn't trust her as far as he could spit. She might think it was to her advantage somehow, to let it all slip to Pamela again.

He didn't feel he could talk to anyone about the danger she was in. His uncle Bobby was so disgusted with him for what he had done to her he couldn't bring it up. Christopher didn't know the real reason for Pamela's breakdown. He still thought it had something to do with her father and the babies. In fact, Christopher had become very tender toward Pamela since she'd been in the hospital. He felt somehow, that her suffering was his responsibility. He'd told John Ross he hadn't protected Pamela when she needed him. When she was pregnant and being battered by her supposed brother. He been so angry at her for her betrayal he had failed to pay attention to the signs of abuse. No, he couldn't talk to him either, without revealing that his part in Pamela's breakdown was much worse than his.

His mother, well, he would probably cause her to go back to the bottle if he talked to her. Hell, she could be drinking right now and hiding it. And even though she loved him he couldn't trust her anymore. Besides, he bore a lot of guilt for sending her there, with all his misbehavior.

He was dueling in the shadows, without backup, and the worst of it was that he himself had given their enemies the ammunition with which to bring them down, and to hurt the woman he loved.

Funny, the company wasn't his first love anymore. He would give it all up, if he could keep Pamela. But there were no guarantees she would even want to stay with him once she knew the truth, and he was getting so damn sick of all the lies.

He was caught between wanting to tell the truth, the corporate intrigue and danger to her, the fear of losing her, and his love for her. He was completely boxed in.

Pamela knew she had to go see Dr. McNamara today, but she didn't want to. She had such mixed feelings about him. Sometimes he put his hand on her arm or on her hair, and it felt creepy. But there was no way she could explain to anyone that she sometimes felt like her psychiatrist was hitting on her. She couldn't tell that to John Ross because of his temper. "He'll probably go and beat the doctor," she giggled.

Dr. McNamara had explained to her that they had a lot of work to do yet, in order for her to be well. He told her that the reason for her breakdown was that she couldn't face the things that happened in her life, and that had made her try to commit suicide.

He said perhaps it would take years for her to be able to face it all and that she should not be too curious about those causes. He would lead her into that territory gradually as he felt she could handle it. She was okay with that. She knew there was a lot of fear there, that sometimes overwhelmed her, and that she didn't want to know what was in the box.

She went to her sessions religiously because she knew she had to get better. She wanted to be a complete person so that she could love John Ross the way he loved her.

"C'mon, this is your job now." She got up, resolute.

When Pamela left her session with Dr. McNamara she didn't go home right away as usual. She felt icky. She couldn't explain the feeling, it just made her feel desperate. She wanted to see John Ross right away. He was the only one who could calm down this anxiety she felt, so she went to the Ewing Global offices, a place she hadn't set foot in in many months.

As Pamela walked out of the elevator she immediately felt all eyes on her. She straightened her back, and tried to look serene, answering the greetings of the secretaries who spoke to her. She was Pamela Barnes Ewing after all, and she should not forget it.

John Ross came out of his office as soon as he saw her. She could have run in to his arms. But he did not seem so inviting.

"What brings you to Ewing Global darling?" He asked, as he close the door to his office.

"Oh, I just wanted to see you," she said, "I can't explain why, but I had to."

"Wait here a minute, baby," he said and walked out to his secretary. She heard him ask her to cancel all his meetings for the rest of the day. She felt guilty.

"John Ross I didn't mean for you to do that. I only wanted a minute of your time."

"Well you've got all of me, darling," he said, smiling in his devastating way. She worried about what he expected but then relaxed as he said, "I'll take you out to lunch, or we can go to the rodeo, or go-cart racing. Hell, anything you want!"

John Ross hurried her out of the office and into the elevator as quickly as he could. But just as the door was closing, a voice said "Hold it!" and stuck his hand in. It was Nicholas Trevino and he got into the elevator with them.

"Mrs. Ewing," he smiled, as he took Pamela's hand. "What a pleasure it is to see you here at Ewing Global again. I hope this means you're coming back to us?"

"Uh..."

"My wife will let us know when she's made a decision." John Ross put him down right away and changed the subject to get him off Pamela. But he kept coming back to her.

"Mrs. Ewing, Pamela, I remember our dance at Southfork, the two step. I enjoyed that so much. I wish we could go out sometime and do it again." He said, dripping with charm.

John Ross remembered he hadn't liked that dance. "Hey, is that what you do down in Mexico? You invite another man's wife out dancing?"

"Certainly not. How rude of me. Obviously I was inviting both of you. As I recall you're a very good dancer too."

"When exactly have u seen me dance?" John issued a thin smile to acknowledge the compliment.

"All the time you are dancing." Nick said, enigmatically.

"Oh, is that what you call that two-step you did to me to convince me to put up my company for an IPO?"

"Exactly." Nicholas gloated.

"Well you needn't feel so smug about it," he said, "Because it didn't work exactly how you planned, did it?"

"Well, it still could," he said, looking at Pamela as if she were a favorite desert.

John Ross had had enough. He was violently angry and it wasn't just jealousy. He smelled the blood in the water and he did not intend to let anyone use his wife as prey.

"Well, you have to excuse us now," he said, in the parking lot. "I'm taking my wife out on the town. Three would be too many."

"Quite a shark that man," John Ross said, as they got in the car. "But I suppose you ladies find him charming."

"He's pretty smooth, but I can see through him," Pamela said, looking at him.

"Can you?" He wondered. How was he going to warn her? How to protect her? The noose just kept getting tighter. From that guy's behavior he would bet a monkey's uncle they were just about to spring the trap. He had to keep Pamela away from that guy by any means necessary.

The very next day something else happened that convinced John Ross he had to take drastic measures.

He came home a little early, to spend time with Pamela. He parked the car and walked by the pool on his way in, just in case she was there. He looked over the hedges and stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, that feels so good. Don't stop, don't stop. You've got magic fingers, Emma."

Pamela lay face down on a towel while Emma gave her a backrub. The look on Emma's face is what arrested him. She was smiling like a cat about to pounce on the canary.

"Emma you're amazing." Pamela continued to praise her.

Now John Ross saw something in Emma's face he couldn't quite identify. It was some kind of ecstasy. She was moving Pamela's hair back with great care and she bent down to smell it.

He walked in at that moment and sat down right next to them and never moved from that spot. When Emma left for the stables a little later though, he told Pamela he was going to change clothes and followed her.

"Careful now," he told himself, "you don't want to antagonize her."

Emma was brushing her mare's hair. "What do you want, John Ross?"

"I want to know what your intentions are towards my wife," he answered her truthfully.

She scoffed, "Why?"

"Because I want to know if you plan to hurt her."

"Not if you don't make me," she said.

He inhaled first, to calm himself. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"Leave us alone, don't interfere."

He went very still, "Don't interfere in what?"

"In our relationship."

"Which is?"

"Still to be defined," she said, smiling.

"Are you crazy? What are you hoping for? Look, Pamela and I are happily married," he said.

"Ha! That's a joke." she issued a hysterical laugh.

"It's not a joke to me, and I will defend our marriage with every breath of my body. I am not the same John Ross of six months ago. That night, that horrific night changed my...perspective."

She reeled on him now, showing her true colors. "Well you're not the only one. You think I don't think about it? That I don't fantasize every day about what we did together?"

"Are you insane, girl? That was a suicide attempt! How can you fantasize about that? She was trying TO KILL HERSELF! Pamela's NOT a lesbian!"

"We'll see." She shrugged.

Again, he took a breath, "What will we see?"

"Who she chooses."

He turned around and walked away.  
Emma was a clear threat. She was obsessed with Pamela. And she could not be reasoned with. If she did not get her way she would do damage.

There was clear and present danger to Pamela from several directions. He had to get her out of here. On the way back to the house he called to get a private charter plane.

While John Ross was in the shower Pamela had gotten a dinner tray for them from the kitchen. "Oh good, darling, cause you and I have got to talk."

Sitting across the small dinner table from her reached for her hand, "Pamela, do you trust me?"

"Yes, I do, John Ross."

"Would you come away with me if I ask you to?"

This time she had to think a little. "Yes."

"Without telling anyone where we're going? I mean it, not anyone."

"I'll come." She played with his fingers. "But are u sure you can leave?"

"If it's for your protection, I can. I can't explain everything right now. But I'll try to on the plane."

She started packing right after dinner while he went to talk to his uncle Bobby.

Pamela wasn't stupid, she knew, she sensed things. She knew what she couldn't remember had to do with John Ross. It was the only thing that could make her want to take her life. But she had to be patient, to wait for him to let it out. She was judging him now by his present actions, by the love and concern he was showing her. The truth could come later. She knew, from her own past actions, what it was like to be boxed in by your own lies, to want to come clean but not to be able to. She could see his insecurity without his telling her. He was terrified once she knew, she would leave him. He really didn't understand how much she loved him.

John Ross laid it all out for uncle Bobby, the corporate intrigue Nicholas was engaged in, the imminent danger to Pamela, the fact that Ewing Global was hanging by a thread. "That's the only thing I can think of to do, Uncle Bobby, is to take her out of here and let you and Christopher fight to get control of things in the company again. I'm leaving you my power of attorney."

"For how long?"

"Indefinitely. Pamela's got to come first. I've got a lot of straightening out to do."

The last thing Bobby said to him was, "John Ross, even though this royal mess is partly your fault, it takes a real man to put his family above everything else and fight for it. I think you're doing the right thing."

"There's one more thing, Uncle Bobby, and I can't say this in front of aunt Annie but you need to know it. Emma is crazy and she's dangerous. She's obsessed with Pamela."

"Obsessed how?"

"She wants her for herself."

"What?" Bobby looked like he'd never heard anything so …unusual.

"She thinks she's in love with her. Pamela's always been kind to her and she's misinterpreted that. You know that coming from the family she comes from she's messed up in the head. She's looking for love in all the wrong places. Anyway, she's unstable. And she's made threats. I can't take any chances with Pamela's sanity. That's another reason I got to get Pamela out of here. I think leaving Dallas is our only salvation."

The flight was scheduled for seven in the morning. He wanted to get Pamela out of the house before everyone was up. Unfortunately, Emma had stayed the night again. It would have aroused her suspicions for Bobby to have asked her to leave. He had been about to do it when he'd stopped him.

John Ross was up and dressed by five am. He put the suitcases in the car quietly, while it was still dark. He looked at his watch and then at his sleeping wife. All he was waiting for was five more minutes to wake her up. 


	7. Season 1, Episode 7 - Haywire

John Ross and Pamela, Season 1, Episode 7 – Haywire

It would have made more sense to have a cab take them to the airport than to take John Ross's car and leave it there. But John Ross didn't want any commotion at Southfork. He wanted them to slip away quietly.

And they did. They boarded the charter plane at 7a.m. and took off.

"Can I know now where we're going?" Pamela asked John Ross.

"First to San Juan, then to St. Kits on another charter."

"Why another charter?"

"Because I'm trying to throw anybody who comes looking off our trail."

"Who would come looking for us?" she asked.

He hesitated to tell her, either about Emma or Trevino. "It's complicated, Pamela."

"Are you being blackmailed, John Ross?"

"Not exactly."

"You said you would try to tell me the truth. Try."

He chose the lesser of two evils. "Nicholas Trevino thinks he can turn you against me. Against the Ewings. He has incriminating evidence of something…something I did. I'm very afraid you're not ready to hear it. That it could send you back to the hospital. I…I'm taking you away to protect you, Pamela. You've gotta believe me." His eyes implored.

He added one last thing, "I'd tell you myself if I thought you could take it. I'm not afraid for myself." That was a complete lie. He was very afraid for himself. "I'm sick of lies. I'm only afraid for your sanity. I don't want to hurt you anymore, baby."

Pamela didn't move. She didn't do anything. She just sat there and mulled it over for an hour. She was trying to gauge how she felt, whether she could take any more. Whether she could handle the truth, the whole truth.

She looked at him, sitting across from her, looking out the window, trying to pretend he was calm. His clenched fists told her he was anything but calm, he was terrified. She remembered that white knuckle fear, the one where you just wanted to burst and tell the damn truth, if only the person on the receiving end would forgive you. If only they didn't stop loving you. He looked like he could explode from the pressure. She had to let him relieve that pressure. It didn't matter how scared she was. Her love for him was strong. It could get her through. She took a deep, deep breath and gripped the arms of her seat.

"Did you cheat on me John Ross?"

He inhaled deeply, tears came into his eyes, and he took some time to be able to get out the words. "I'm very sorry that I did. It meant nothing, I was just trying to get a deal going." He looked her straight in the eye, "I'm so sorry that I hurt you, baby."

She sat there, oddly disembodied, thinking about the thing. Was this the thing she was so afraid of? It didn't feel like it. It was bad, but she could tell he was sorry. She could forgive him.

Pamela had retreated again into quiet. John Ross breathed a sigh of relief that she had not dissolved into a rage. But he was still in a perpetual state of alert. Anything could happen. That Doc had made him believe she was so fragile. But he knew his Pamela was a strong woman. That's what he admired about his wife. Beneath that fragile beauty was a person who had recovered from serious blows and who did not give up.

Except for that one time, that is. That one horrible time. Perhaps all this meditative silence meant she was plotting to do it again.

Yeah, speaking of the Doc, he would be spitting mad when he found out John Ross had taken Pamela out of the country without so much as a "by your leave." He was glad he wouldn't be around to get an earful of that. But he hoped he didn't live to regret it either.

They changed planes in San Juan and landed in the afternoon on the little island of Nevis, and then it's sister island, St. Kitts. The hotel shuttle left them in front of the beautiful five star hotel they had spent their honeymoon in.

It had been an active week when they had been here before, and the hostess was aggressive in trying to get them to sign up for activities once again. John Ross thought Pamela would not be in the mood, but she surprised him by agreeing to kayaking and scuba lessons and beach volleyball.

For the next few days they looked to any outsiders like they were having a second honeymoon.

"What about dinner, darling?" John Ross asked, trying to pick one of the hotel restaurants.

"Why don't we go into town, when we did the sightseeing tour we saw a little place I'd like to try. "

"What was it called?"

"Mama Joy." She smiled.

"Mama Joy! Well, alright darling. I'll try anything once." Especially if she looked at him like that, all fresh and lovely in her tie die halter dress.

When they entered the wooden house painted in bright parrot colors they received a warm greeting from a large black woman who must have been Mama Joy herself. "How y'all doing on this fine evening? Come and sit where u can see the sunset."  
She said.

"Thank you," Pamela answered the maternal greeting with equal warmth.

"What will you be having? Do you know creole food?"

"Not too much, can you explain it a little?"

"Everything is very fresh. Full of herbs and spices I grow right out back there in my own garden."

"Awesome."

"Today we have the jerk chicken I recommend for you, the squash soup..." she went on to rattle off a long list of delicacies, all of which sounded good to Pamela. John Ross was simply fascinated by her enthusiasm. Pamela had not been eating much, her appetite seemed to become as subdued as her mood did sometimes.

She had not yet commented on his infidelity. It had been almost a week. He was learning the patience of Job, but sometimes he felt all twisted up inside.

Once Pamela selected her food the woman turned to him. "And you, dear?"

"Oh, I don't know. What was all that again?" he joked.

"Ah, you're a funny one," Mama Joy joked with him.

"Yes. I'm kidding. I'll have what she's having, exactly."

"Of course you will. You will follow her to the ends of the earth, won't you?" she kidded again, not knowing how close to the mark she was.

John Ross broke out in a broad smile. "You've got my number there," he said.

"Just focus on that and you'll be alright," she said to him, and it was as if someone had walked on his grave. How could she know he needed to hear that right at that moment?

Pamela jumped in to what she thought was a game. "But how can he do that, when I don't know where I'm going?" she asked.

"This man has the patience of Job," she said, as John Ross caught his breath.

"Let me get to your food," she said. "So you can get the party started."

They both had grins on their faces when she left. They felt completely at home. The fruit juices were fresh and light when they arrived. The dip for the chips had them fighting each other for the last bite.

"You owe me, John Ross. Don't you dare touch that last bite."

"Ah ha! Now it comes out," he said. "Now you're going to charge me." He relinquished the salsa dip and got serious for one second. "How can you charge me so little?" He said.

"Because I love you," she said, being serious for a moment also.

He took a deep breath and looked straight in her eyes. "You should hate me," he whispered.

"I know what it's like to make mistakes and to really regret them."

"Can I ask…," he tried to be cautious. "You don't really remember finding it out, do you?"

"No, I don't," she answered.

"When you do, you may not want to stay with me, Pamie. I want you to know I'll understand it if you don't. I just want to get you through to the other side. I want you to be alright."

"I know you do, John Ross." She put her hand on his. "I'm thinking we should trust our love for each other."

Their food came and they ate in peace. John Ross was so happy he was cracking jokes. And she was happy to laugh at every one of them. The food, according to John Ross, was so good it was a nearly orgasmic experience. When Mama Joy came by again to check on them and see how they liked her food they both broke out laughing because they couldn't tell her exactly how good it was.

"Ah, I see it made you happy. That is the best reason for cooking."

"I wish I could cook food like this," Pamela said. "I think it would be awesome."

"Using your hands is always a blessing. It has a healing power."

"Oh?"

"Yes, it's true, dear. It soothes the spirit."

Pamela seemed to think on this. "Would you… Would it be too much to ask, would you teach me how to cook? I would be willing to pay for classes."

"Darling, you don't have to pay me. I'll teach you anytime. Just come in the mornings."

At that moment some folks arrived and started gathering at the biggest table in the back corner. They seemed more informal than the rest of the guests, which were thinning out. Mama Joy had hugs for all of them. She called Pamela and John Ross over and introduced her tall son, Godwin and his wife Lotta and baby.

Pamela's eyes were riveted on the boy, a smiling chocolate baby. "Who's this, huh? Who's this?" she asked, pinching the baby's toe.

The child went into a fit of chuckles.

Everyone cracked up in surprise. When Pamela repeated her action, she got the same reaction. And again and again until Pamela was the one now holding the baby and he was touching her lips and nose and hair.

John Ross started taking pictures of the two and of the group and of Pamela and the baby and Mama Joy together. He had to do something to keep busy otherwise he would have just stared. She was dazzling and full of joy in that moment. He worshipped at her feet.

They stayed with the family a long time and went home close to midnight. As they got into their room Pamela said, "I want to see those pictures you took. Can I have your phone?"

"Sure thing."

They lay on the bed looking at all the pictures and laughing, both of them surprised they had found such warmth in so little time among Mama Joy's special family.

"It was a grand night," Pamela said.

"Were those people real?" John Ross asked. "It's hard to believe they were real. I mean, we're total strangers and they just took us in. Just like that."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Pamela answered, looking at John Ross. It was like they had found a vision of what they wanted in their life, love that was pure, simple and true.

Their eyes locked and after a moment Pamela leaned over and began kissing him. He responded, but only with his lips, letting her take the lead. As things got more heated and it was clear where they were headed he asked, "Darling, are you sure you want this?"

"Uh-hum," she answered.

He still made no move to bring her beneath him, letting all of it happen on her terms. He touched her only lightly on the arms and hands and face. When they climaxed it was an explosion of feeling for both of them and he thought it was the perfect ending to the perfect night.

But he was wrong. Not long after, Pamela started to breathe deeply, in gasps. She started panicking, saying the words, "No, no, no."

Before long she was raging, saying, "Don't touch me, I don't want you to touch me. Oh, I feel so awful. I want to vomit."

She got up and ran to the bathroom and did just that, retching and purging like a bulimic. John Ross was horrified and unsure of what to do. If he had not seen her in a rage before he would have taken it personal, that his lovemaking could make her feel so bad. But he knew there was something more going on, that made her go haywire like this.

He called the hotel desk and asked for a house doctor. Half an hour later, a physician showed up to see Pamela pacing in circles and talking to herself. He gave her a sedative and referred John Ross to a psychiatrist for the next day.

As he cradled his sleeping wife in his arms John Ross slowly let go of all the tears he had pent up in his heart. Clearly, Pamela was deeply torn between loving him and hating him. He wondered what would win out in the end. He was a man in purgatory, who had no knowledge of his own end, whether it would be heaven or hell.


	8. Season 1, Episode 8 - Revelations

John Ross and Pamela, S1 E8 – Revelations

John Ross drank another sip of coffee and looked at a sleeping Pamela. The sedative she'd been given caused her to sleep thru the morning. But now he had to wake her. The psychiatrist's office had given her an appointment for one o'clock.

He prepared himself for the worst. He sat on the side of the bed and took her hand, rubbing it gently. "Baby."

Pamela opened her eyes.

"Pamela, honey. Can you get dressed? I made an appointment for you to see a psychiatrist."

"Uh-uh. No. No more psychiatrist." She sat up hastily.

"Please, baby. We need help."

She looked at him. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid of everything now."

"Baby, I'm going with you. I promise to never leave your side."

They got to the doctor's office, and even the fifteen minutes in the waiting room seemed like an eternity. Pamela wouldn't let go of his arm.

Pamela had refused to eat anything, saying, "I'll get something later at Mama's." John Ross took note of the fact that she was willing to eat Mama's food, while the hotel food didn't appeal to her. Maybe he could start sending out for food from there. He had no doubt as to the healing effects of Mama's food. Perhaps it even had aphrodisiac effects. Flashes of last night's sweet moments kept resurfacing for him. He used them to calm his nerves.

A thirty-something woman came out of her office to greet them. "Hello, I'm Dr. Emanuele. You can call me Gina, if you like. I've cleared my afternoon for you. Come right in."

They sat on a couch across from the doctor. Pamela held his hand very tightly and wouldn't talk. In fact, she didn't make a lot of eye contact with the doctor.

John Ross took the lead. "My wife, as far as I can understand, is very afraid. She suffered a serious panic attack last night—"

"What was happening at the moment she suffered the attack, what triggered it?"

Again, Pamela volunteered nothing, so he had to go forward. "We had just made love."

"Anything unusual in that?" the doctor probed.

"It was the first time we'd been able to. You see, my wife suffered a breakdown…" he swallowed hard, "after an attempted suicide…she's was in an institution, a psychiatric clinic for three months and has been out for about a month.

"And her doctor let her travel like this?"

John Ross was beginning to feel the magnitude of his ill advised removal of Pamela from her psychiatrist's care. "No. He…he didn't. We…I didn't ask him. I…we just thought we had to escape…from the pressures back home. Dr. Macnamara wouldn't have agreed—"

At that moment Pamela got up abruptly, and started pacing the office, saying "Ahhh…No, no, no. I don't want to go there. I can't take this." She repeated these expressions over and over, getting more agitated by the moment.

The doctor immediately got up and went to her. "Pamela, are you feeling scared right now? Tell me."

"Yes, yes, yes."

John Ross intervened, "She can't handle the whole thing about the suicide, Doc. Only under hypnosis. That's what the Doc was doing with her. Hypnosis."

"J-John Ross. Where are you?"

"I'm here baby. I'm right here."

"Pamela, listen to me," the doctor took one of her hands and walked with her. "Listen to the sound of my voice. I'm going to count backwards from 5, and then you're going to relax. Okay?" she looked at John Ross, on the other side of her and said, "Be ready to catch her. Now, Pamela. Five…four…three…two…one."

Pamela collapsed like a rag doll in his arms.

"Put her on the couch here, next to you. Let's talk to her, see what's causing such fear."

"I can tell you what she's afraid of." He said, the sadness squeezing his heart. "Me."

"Pamela. Tell me what you feel." The doctor went directly to the point.

"Don't let him come in here," she said, and John Ross flinched.

"Allright, we can send John Ross out. Is that what you want?"

"No, I want John Ross to stay."

"Okay, he's right next to you. He can hold your hand if you want him to," she motioned for him to do so.

"Now, Pamela. Tell us who you don't want to come in."

"The do—the do—the doctor."

"What doctor?"

"Do—do—he wants me to call him Stan."

"Is this Doctor Stan Macnamara?" She scribbled quick notes.

"Yes"

"Are you afraid of him?"

"Yes."

"Pamela. You won't feel any fear now, of Dr. Macnamara. But tell us why you don't want him in here."

"Because he makes me do things I don't want to do."

"What things? Can you tell me what?"

Her voice shrunk into a wail. "He makes me have sex with him."

John Ross received a jolt so strong he jumped up from the couch. He grabbed his chest with one hand and held onto the doctor's desk with the other. He thought he would pass out.

"Calm yourself," the doctor whispered. "I know this is hard, but you have to."

She went back to questioning Pamela, taking note of the details of the doctor's sexual abuse. The graphic descriptions nearly caused John Ross to retch. Finally, the doctor said. "Pamela, you will never have to go back to Dr. Macnamara again. He will not come near you. You don't have to be afraid of him anymore. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, listen to me. You are going to come out of the hypnosis now, when I count backwards from five you will not remember what we talked about, but you will feel at peace. You are just going to sleep for a while, okay? And when you wake up you will feel refreshed."

She brought her back out. "Excuse me a moment, John Ross."

When she came back into the room she brought an assistant. "John Ross, Pipa is going to sit with Pamela while you and I go into the other office. Just slide her body down so she can sleep comfortably. There. Follow me now."

After one last look at his wife, John Ross followed the doctor out into a smaller, more personal office.

He sat on the chair and proceeded to cry his eyes out. The doctor didn't interfere. She gave him a box of tissues at some point and slowly he got himself under control.

"How do you feel?" she asked quietly.

"Like I could kill that doctor with my bare hands," he said.

"That's understandable. It is a crime and a severe breach of medical ethics. We can talk about what needs to be done there. But first, let's talk about you and Pamela."

He was still rubbing his eyes from time to time. The tears just wouldn't stop coming. "Pamela can never know," he said.

"On the contrary, she has to know. Her unconscious mind already knows."

"Doc. After all that she's suffered, this will be the straw that breaks the camel's back."

"John Ross, whatever she has suffered, her mind has found a way to cope. She is still here. That shows she is a strong person. It may be necessary to keep certain things from her and reveal them gradually."

"So, what do I tell her?"

"The truth, as much as possible."

"But Doc…that other son of a bitch doctor said she was too frail to handle the truth. The stuff that caused her to attempt suicide. It was me. My cheating on her.

That's the reason she was under his care, because she took a bunch of pills when she found out I'd cheated on her with her best friend. It's my fault all this has happened to her."

The doctor was thoughtful. "John Ross, I have to tell you that surprises me very much. You seem very much in love with Pamela. What caused you to cheat on her?"

He looked at a loss for words. "I…I've been sleeping around with every piece…every woman in my path, since a young age. It just…just didn't mean anything to me. None of those women ever meant anything to me."

"But Pamela is different."

"Pamela is the love of my life."

"Then why would you risk that? People don't usually risk what's important to them unless they're addicts."

"Well, there you go then. I'm a sex addict."

"Well, that's not so clear. We'll have to explore that too. That will be part of the course of treatment if you want a healthy marriage."

John Ross laughed, sarcastically. "Doc. I'm not looking to get a damn thing out of this for myself. I deserve to rot in the blackest hell for what I've done to that woman out there. I just want her to have a clean slate, so that she can walk away from me and never look back."

The doctor considered this, then said, "John Ross. Apparently, for Pamela, you're not just part of the problem. You're part of the solution too. Happiness, the happiness you want for her, may only exist if you're part of her life. She seems to depend on you."

"Yeah, but that's a false security. Because the moment she remembers what really went down, she's gonna hate me."

"Well, that's a risk we'll have to take. You must have been willing to risk it, otherwise you wouldn't have brought her here."

"Oh, yeah. And I've told her that myself."

"So she knows some of this already?"

"I told her a week ago that I had cheated on her and that's why she tried to commit suicide."

"What was her reaction?"

"She said," he sniffled, "after a week of thinking about it, she told me she could forgive me. Because she loved me." He squeezed the bridge of his nose, to staunch the flow of tears..

"I see, so last night, was a sort of reconciliation." The doctor said, piecing things together.

"To which she had a violent reaction." He added.

"But wait, John Ross, let's not jump to conclusions. I suspect there are more pieces to this puzzle. Listen, I want to help you both. To help Pamela face the trauma and you to understand what drives you to self-destructive behavior."

When they left Dr. Gina's, Pamela wanted to go straight for Mama's place and he didn't protest. He needed to distract her, so she wouldn't ask him questions. Because even though the doctor had advised him to let Pamela know the truth if she asked for it, he didn't know how little or how much he could spill at once. The truth felt like a live grenade in his hand.

Mama Joy was warm and funny, "Well, now. Look at what the cat dragged in again. You didn't get enough of my cooking last night?"

"No, never." Pamela laughed.

"And you, Mr. John Ross."

"I told you, Mama. I follow her," he faked his smile.

Pamela went to the lady's room. Mama said to him, as she prepared their drinks. "You can use a little rum in your juice, can't you?"

"Yes, a very stiff shot."

"Ah-hum. Has the Devil got you sore?"

"I'm presently trying to keep the Devil from drowning me." He said, and he thought he was being sufficiently cryptic.

But it seemed that was exactly the kind of language Mama Joy understood. "Well I got a better cure for that."

"Tell me what it is."

"Redemption work," she said.

At that moment Pamela came back and they both sat at the counter eating two platefuls served up fresh. He didn't get a chance to ask Mama what she meant by "redemption work."

Pamela, who seemed a whole lot lighter than this morning, got to get into the kitchen and chop some herbs and vegetables according to Mama's instructions.

John Ross sat on the steps of the back porch, trying to grapple with what he had learned that morning. Mama Joy came out and as he got up to let her through she said, "Follow me, dear."

"Me?"

"Yes. I'm going to show you something."

She led him back in the yard and stopped in front of a fallow bed. She picked up a shovel stuck in the ground and handed it to him. "Here, turn that ground. And while you do, ask for it."

"For what?" he said.

"For redemption." She patted him on the back. "That's right, ask for it. It'll come. I promise you."

He started then, digging the bed from left to right and back again. He took off his shirt after a while and applied himself, with all the anger and despair that were dogging his mind. How could he ever redeem himself? He could kill the man with his bare hands but it would not erase the fact that it was his fault that she had fallen prey to him in the first place. He stomped that spade into the ground with a savage force, and ripped the spadefuls of earth from the ground to turn them over and pound them back into it. He chopped the clods with the sharp edge and looked at the sky. But he could not ask for it. He was unworthy. He hated himself.

Late at night, when Pamela had fallen asleep, he took his cell phone out on the terrace, to a place where he couldn't be heard. He called his cousin Christopher.

"Hello?"

"Christopher."

"John Ross, what's going on? People are asking about you guys. Pamela's doctor's office is driving Aunt Annie crazy."

"Christopher." John Ross tried again.

"What's the matter? Is everything alright? John Ross talk to me, man."

"It's Pamela."

"What's the matter with Pamela?"

"It's a long, long story." John Ross rubbed his forehead.

"Well, spit it out. I'm here for you, man."

"You can't tell a living soul. Not yet. We're getting the law involved."

This time Christopher didn't interrupt. He just listened. John Ross told him the whole truth, but without embellishment.

"No, man. No. It can't be true. She's been through so much already," Christopher said.

"It's true, man. And it's all my fault for letting that guy near her in the first place."

"You couldn't have known John Ross. It's not your fault. How can you say that?"

When he didn't get an answer he asked, "I'm afraid to ask, man. How's Pamela?"

"She doesn't know. It all came out under hypnosis."

"Oh my God. So you can't tell her? That must be very hard."

"Why do you think I'm calling you? I needed someone to talk to, I'm ready to bust. I want to kill the son of a bitch so bad."

"I got your back, cousin. We'll get him. What do you want me to do?"

"Well, right now the Doc here is reporting him to the psychiatric board in the United States. I don't know what kind of investigation they do. But maybe we can do our own investigation. Quiet like, on the side. Get Bum to start digging."

"All right, I'll do that. Stay strong, John Ross."

John Ross hung up the phone and he looked at the sky, at the stars. He contemplated them a long time but he still couldn't ask for redemption.


	9. Season 1, Episode 9 - Redemption Work

John Ross and Pamela, Season 1, Episode 9 – Redemption Work

John Ross turned over in the bed. "Where you going? It's seven in the morning," he said in a groggy voice.

Shirtless, he presented an enticing picture to an already dressed Pamela.

"I'm off to my cooking lesson," she answered.

"What about me?" he asked.

"You can come there when you get up."

"I have an appointment at ten with Gina." He said.

"By yourself?" she asked.

"Yeah, she's trying to straighten me out." He joked.

"Are you sure you're not talking about me? Because if you are I want to be there."

"No. This is just for me, and about me. We can talk about you in your sessions." He got up from the bed to pull her into his arms. "Where's my goodbye kiss?"

She kissed him and then said, "Mama Joy's waiting for me." She didn't pull out of his arms. Only her words expressed her hesitation to abandon herself to his touch. They had, by unspoken agreement, decided to leave their sexual life aside, but it was hard not to get carried away sometimes. John Ross was so downright…magnetic.

"Oh," he said. "Well go on then. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

John Ross got back in bed and put his hands behind his head. Life had taken on sort of a rhythm, between cooking lessons and sessions with the psychiatrist. He had contacted a realtor and scouted some furnished houses for rent closer to the village center. It looked like they would be here for a while.

He felt good, like they were making some progress. Pamela was stable, even though she didn't have much memory yet. Gina had not tried to deconstruct the wall that Doc. M. had set up. She said she wanted to understand more about Pamela. And so they worked in the conscious realm, talking about things, instead of under hypnosis.

He couldn't think about that doc by his name. He thought of him as Doc Rapist and Doc Monster. Doc Psychopath. His name brought about an eruption of anger within John Ross. At everything that had happened, but mostly, at himself. In order to deal with that, his "redemption work" had become another part of the rhythm of life. He was sure to need some of Mama Joy's redemption work after today's session with Gina.

Gina went straight to the point. "Why do you like sleeping around so much?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I don't really like it all that much."

"Why?"

"I…I don't admire these women. I think I despise them, actually. 'Cause they don't seem to be very moral."

"So you only sleep with immoral women? What does that make you?"

"Well I'm under no illusions about the fact that I'm a scoundrel, the most despicable of the creatures that slithers on the earth."

"So, it's not that you're looking down on these women?"

"No. I'm just saying, that if I thought they cared, or that I was hurting them, I wouldn't do it. I mean, I don't like hurting people."

"Ok. So what you're saying is that you don't get anything out of it."

"Yeah. I see it for what it is. Just sex. I have no illusions about it."

"So, can you live without it? Could you walk away?"

"In a heartbeat."

She seemed at a loss, but she was writing little notes in her book. He would have loved to know what they were.

"So, listen to what you're saying. You don't enjoy it. You don't like these particular women. Why do you think it's necessary for you to sleep around like you do?"

"Well, maybe they have something I need."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe they have power over awarding a contract, or they have transportation resources I need, or I need a little dirt so I can leverage somebody."

"So, it's part of the way you do business."

"Yeah. It's just business."

"Do you think Pamela understood it like that?"

He took a long pull of air, "Well, I never intended for her to find out. But, the truth is, in my twisted way of thinking, because it meant nothing to me, I thought it meant nothing to her."

"But it didn't turn out like that."

"It was only after I saw how it hurt her that I understood the havoc I had wreaked." He had a lump in his throat. It was impossible to talk. The Doc let him work through the emotion.

"So expand on it a little. How does it work. This sex for business."

"Usually it goes along with some kind of blackmail. Either they're blackmailing me or I blackmail them."

"Interesting. Give me an example."

"So my cousin needed the city transit authority to agree to fuel all the city buses with methane. He gets all the work done, had it all sewn up except that at the last moment the woman who had the power to move the deal his way wanted a little something on the side. So I was sent in to "charm the pants off her," which usually means sexing them up."

"You say you were sent in. Who sent you in?"

"My uncle Bobby, I guess."

"And why didn't your cousin Christopher do that job?"

"Well, because Christopher's not that kind of guy, who does this sort of thing. He's too moral."

"So you were pimped out by your family to go get the company this contract."

John Ross was silent, reflecting on it. "Nobody makes me do these things."

"Then why do you do them?"

"Because the deal is important."

"To whom?"

"To the Company. To me."

"Making the deal is what's important to you."

"I thought it was."

"Is there something more important to you now?"

"She is."

"So, was there a price to living that way?"

He wiped his teary eyes. "I'm thinking now, that price was too high."

She handed him the box of tissues.

"Well maybe you could meditate on why you were willing to pay such a high price. Why do you measure yourself by "the making of the deal" as you put it. And we'll work on that next time."

He went straight for the restaurant. He looked at Pamela, breezy and beautiful in an apron. She was fully part of the hustle and buzz of the noon day business.

"Hi!" She kissed him on the way to delivering food to a waiting table.

He shouldn't have come. He didn't want to bring her down with his mood.

He turned to go and bumped into Mama. "John Ross. Aren't you going to have a plate of food?"

"Later, maybe."

"I see."

He just stood in front of her. Not wanting to look in her eyes. She saw too much.

"Dear, can you do a little job for me?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

"There's some rocks I need cleared, to make another garden bed. Just pile them up around the edges so I can make a garden bed in the middle. I want to put in some okra."

"Uh-hum. Will do."

He worked all afternoon, under the blazing hot sun. Literally digging and ripping rocks out of the soil. Dragging them to the edges of the hard field.

It was punishing work. But it wasn't punishing enough for him. He thought about his session that morning. It turns out John Ross Ewing was a whore. Nothing but a whore. He had so little self respect he would sell his soul, or his sexual favors, for a handful of coins. It didn't matter how many zeros there were to the deal, he was willing to whore his body out to make it happen. "Ha! John Ross, you're nothing but a two bit whore."

It was more difficult to accept that his family "pimped him out." He was loath to share his guilt with others, but a niggling sense of doubt crept in. Because he was JR's son had there always been a sort of expectation on him? That he would do anything to seal the deal? Hadn't it always been sort of understood that the son of the black sheep had certain responsibilities to continue the shenanigans, whenever the shenanigans were needed?

Although the family always pretended they were half good, half bad, weren't they all pretty much the same? Look at how Uncle Bobby had framed Cliff Barnes, how he had pushed John Ross to marry Pamela for her shares in Ewing Global. Those were not the actions of an angel.

There was no moral high ground in their family. There was only the family and the company. For all their talk about protecting the family, they were just protecting the company, the conglomerate that had started as Ewing Oil and had then gone through many evolutions. The members of the family were all pawns in a high stakes game of chess. While he had thought himself a major player in that game he was also being used.

They were all corrupt. They were probably the most dysfunctional family in Dallas.

"Hello, there."

John Ross looked up to see Godwin smiling at him and offering him a jug of water. "Mama sent me down with this."

"Thank you. What you smiling at, man."

"So she sent you to break rocks," he laughed. "The Devil must really be dogging you, man."

"Hey, what do you know about this "redemption work?"

"I've done it a couple of times myself. What you want to know?"

"How does it work?"

"It's a time to meditate on what ails ya, you know? While at the same time trying to forgive yourself by punishing your body."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"No chance, man. Then Mama just find you harder work to do. More disgusting. More humbling."

"I see."

He didn't. He was wrestling with demons that could not be conquered. Hatred. Self hatred. Anger. Loathing. Fear. Great fear, that she would leave him when this was all done.

"But listen, man. Lighten up. Have a little fun. We've got a beach party tomorrow, man. The cousins and all. You and Pamela come out. Play some beach ball."

"Oh, that sounds good. We'll be there." That family was like a magnet, he and Pamela were both enamored of them, like moths to a flame.

That's why he was trying to get them a house near here. He'd seen one with the realtor yesterday that was only a few blocks away. It was a nice bungalow painted flamingo pink, with a back yard and an ocean view. It wasn't huge or anything, but he liked the cozy feel of it and he was going to surprise Pamela with it next week, when it was all clean.

He laughed at himself and at Mama Joy's technique. So that's why he had progressed from earth turning to rock clearing. She should put him to mucking out shit from the latrines. He needed more humbling.

That beach party came to rank in John Ross and Pamela's mind as the number one best family time either one of them had ever experienced. There were at least thirty people there, between babies and uncles and cousins and aunts. It didn't just last a few hours. It started in the morning and went way into the night with music around a bonfire.

"What was your favorite part?" Pamela asked him on the drive back to the hotel.

"The volleyball. Hands down, the volleyball."

"You mean the killer, two on two, Olympic matches you big guys played."

"Yeah. Those guys rocked. I swear, I would be a professional beach volleyball player if I could."

"Ha!"

"But I liked the other games, too. The ones where you played. You seemed to be enjoying that."

"I did, I did. But the highlight for me—"

"Was playing with the babies. I know. I saw you."

"Omygod! They're such happy babies."

"Uh-hum." He didn't know what more to say. Did she remember her own babies? He couldn't touch that subject.

He couldn't say either, "We could have a baby." Who could have a baby without having sex? It would have to be an immaculate conception. More to the point, how could they have a baby with the sword they had hanging over their heads?

At the hotel Pamela took her time getting ready for bed.

Brushing her teeth, she looked at herself in the mirror. She loved it here. She wished they could stay here forever.

But most of all she wished her husband would make love to her. Right now. She was so hot for him. But she knew he wouldn't try it for fear she would have another panic attack. He thought it was his fault, and it hurt him.

Today, watching him play volleyball like a Trojan had lit a fire in her. John Ross was all physical, all energy. She could believe what he said about wanting to be a professional athlete, because he had the drive and the killer instinct. He had the moves.

And those moves just made her melt.

It had been such a great day. And she felt so good, so happy. She wished she could understand herself. What made her so fearful of intimacy when she loved her husband to distraction? She was thinking of his hands on her all the time.

Why not risk it? She felt nothing bad could happen right now.

She came out of the bathroom determined to take matters into her own hands. But when she reached the bed she saw John Ross was asleep.

"Baby?" she shook him gently.

He was out like a light.


	10. Season 1, Episode 10 - Flamingo House

John Ross and Pamela - S1 E10 – Flamingo House

Pamela was on the lookout for John Ross when he came into Mama Joy's that morning. When she saw him, she went up to him, took his face and planted a kiss on his lips. John Ross swallowed hard, but outwardly, he didn't let it show, all that desire was under the surface.

"Umm, that was nice," he held her. "Listen baby, can you get away now? I have something I want to show you before we go to our appointment with Gina.

Pamela's heart skipped a beat. "Sure let's go."

He took her to the pink flamingo house, on the street with walled in gardens.

"John Ross, what is this, why do you have a key?"

"Allow me, Mrs. Ewing," he said, scooping her up in his arms and walking into the furnished grand living room.

He put her down, grabbed her hand and took her on a tour from the kitchen to dining room/living room, into the bedroom and out the double doors onto the terrace and the backyard, from which one could see the ocean down below.

"What is this place? It's beautiful."

"It's yours if you want it."

"For how long?" she asked.

"For as long as we're here."

She walked up to him and kissed him full on the mouth, "I want it." She walked back into the house, saying. "Let's go to the hotel and check out right now."

"Woah, we're late for our appointment. We can do that after. "

As he drove the car she said, "I can't wait to cook in my own kitchen. We need to get groceries on the way home."

"Wow, I didn't know my wife had such a domestic side."

"My mother would never let me near the kitchen when I was growing up. She thought it was beneath us. The maid did everything. I was always so envious of the kids who's moms cooked.

She listed the grocery items out loud as she noted them in her cell.

He looked at her profile and a warm feeling invaded him. "You did good John Ross, she's happy," he said to himself.

When she walked in to the doctor's office, the glow was still on her face and became the topic of conversation.

"Well Pamela, you look strong, you look happy," the Dr. said.

"I am," she said, "nothing can bring me down today."

"Do you feel strong enough to tackle some of the things you still don't know?"

Pamela involuntarily reached for John Ross' hand. "Sure," she said. "As long as it's not through hypnosis."

"Okay then, what shall we talk about first?"

John Ross volunteered, "Since you already know about my infidelity, how about we finish that topic."

"What do you mean?" Pamela asked.

"You've never asked who-"

"I don't want to know," she said abruptly.

John Ross tried again, "Pamela, for your protection I think it's important-"

"I don't ever want to know who you slept with or who you're going to sleep with, that's your problem," she replied, savagely.

John Ross was stunned by this Pamela. By her vehemence and her anger. Even her voice was gruff.

"Baby listen to me, I'm never going to cheat on you again, I promise you that."

"Don't make _me_ any promises," she said. "Make them to yourself."

John Ross looked like he was about to argue so Gina jumped in and said "Pamela is right, John Ross, you should do this because you want to do it, for you."

"I have to have someone to believe in me," he said. "Everyone is always telling me that I'm like my father. I need someone to believe I can be different."

A softer spoken Pamela now said "I believe in you. But I won't be your conscience. Be an honorable man because you want to."

He wasn't looking at her when he said, "Just don't stop loving me, baby."

She was also subdued when she answered, "I'll always love you. I'll love you no matter what."

After a long, but not awkward, pause, the doctor said, "So Pamela, what is it that you would like to know?"

She meditated. "I guess I would like to know why the panic attacks."

John Ross jumped up and started pacing. "Now I'm the one who's not sure if I want to go there."

"Why?" Pamela asked.

"Because it's bad, very bad," John Ross answered.

She looked at the doctor. "Brace yourself," the doctor said.

Pamela kept her eyes on her.

"Your doctor, your previous psychiatrist, took advantage of you."

"In what way?"

"In the worst possible way. He forced you to have sex with him."

Pamela just sat there. The impact of what she had heard was slow to penetrate. She looked at John Ross and the pain and distress she saw on his face was what cued her in.

Suddenly, she took in great gasps of air and then started to retch.

"John Ross, the wastebasket quick," the doctor pointed.

John Ross grabbed the basket and held her hair back, while she emptied all the contents of her stomach and more into the container.

When she finished she just sat on the floor. The doctor gave her water and tissues.

"What's being done about it," she asked.

"He's been reported. He's going to jail. He won't be able to hurt any more people," the doctor said.

She looked at John Ross. "Is that true?"

"I'm not sure, Christopher is following up on that," he said.

"Christopher?" She asked.

"I'm sorry Pamela. I needed someone to talk to. He's got your back. He promised to go after the guy. Well get him behind bars. I promise you, darling."

"What did he say?" She asked.

"He was destroyed. And very angry."

"Christopher cares about me." She said, in a little girl voice. "I don't know how, after what I did to him."

"He forgave you a long time ago, darling."

Now the doctor brought their attention back and explored their feelings about the revelation.

After a while, she said. "Well, I think that is enough for one day, don't you? I'll be seeing you in two days."

"Okay," they agreed.

"In the meantime, I want you to try not to talk about this one topic too much. Don't distress yourselves. We will talk about it little by little here, in my office."

Even though the revelations in the doctor's office cast a pall over their move into the flamingo house, John Ross was glad they had something to do to occupy them.

Pamela cooked in silence and they ate on the terrace, as the sun was setting.

"This is outstanding, darling. What kind of fish is this?"

"Grouper," she answered.

Pamela had retreated into the quiet zone, and John Ross was afraid to interfere with her reflection process.

He washed the dishes as she put away the leftovers. "Don't be surprised if they disappear in the middle of the night." He joked.

But it was Pamela who got up in the middle of the night to pace in her bare feet, out in the back yard.

He went out, the grass was cold with dew. "What you doing, looking at the stars?" He asked, very softly. He ignored her apparent despair as if it were a normal state. He didn't want to exacerbate it into a panic attack.

"How? How could I have let him?" She asked, in that little girl voice.

"Darling, you did nothing wrong. You hear me, nothing!"

"C'mere." he took her arm and led her. "Come sit on this hammock with me."

"Can u see those stars?" he pointed. "Way up there? Aren't they beautiful? Peaceful? Let yourself drift out there. Do it. I'm here."

It was a breathtaking, jeweled night, with the full complement of stars of a Caribbean sky. As Pamela let go of her anxiety, the tears started to come.

They lay in that hammock, her head on his chest. He held her as she wept, rubbing her back. When she finally exhausted the tears and the hiccup sighs and fell asleep, he picked her up in his arms and carried her back into the house.

Pamela slept in the next morning, and so did John Ross. They were not talkative when they got up but by quiet agreement decided to spend the day together. They rented a small dinghy with a motor and spent the day driving slowly in and out of the mangroves. The water was clear as glass and the sky deep blue and cloudless.

Communing long hours with nature in this way, they found a small measure of healing.

The next morning they had an early appointment with Gina. She asked how they were doing.

John Ross let Pamela take the lead. "Trying to find a way to cope."

"What have you done?" The doctor asked.

Pamela described all the recent changes in their lives; the house, the cooking, the boating, the family they'd become friends with.

"But this is wonderful!" she gushed. "Those are all very concrete steps. You are filling your lives with positive things that will support the changes you are trying to make."

"Now, I need to give you a referral, Pamela. To another physician, she's a friend of mine. She's very good. And I need you to see her right away."

"Why do I need another doctor?" Pamela asked.

"I've been holding off on this since our first session, Pamela. Because you were not ready, but really, we're running out of time. She's a gynecologist, my dear. And she'll take very good care of you."

Again, she spoke. "Pamela, you look blank." She said, very gently. "You need to be tested for STD's."

"And, I need you to think back. When did you have your period last?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. Not since I got out of the clinic..." She took in a great gasp of air.

"Now don't panic. It doesn't mean anything. We're just going to make sure. Do you understand?"

"But what do we do if-"

"We will process. We will explore your options. We will make decisions. But right now all we need you to do is to focus, to take a full battery of tests. Would you rather learn the results here with me so I can help you deal with them?"

"Yes, yes. I'm very afraid to know this."

"Okay, I understand, but I want you to think about it this way: 'I don't need to be worried about something that may not have happened. If and when I have proof that it has happened I will deal with it then.' Ok? How does that sound? Your appointment is for tomorrow."

They left her office and went directly to Mama Joy's. The last thing they wanted was to be alone with the terrible concept that Pamela could be carrying her rapist's child.

When they walked in and sat at a table Mama herself came to take their order.

"My, my. You two have been missed."

"Can I work today?" Pamela asked.

"Sure thing, dear. John Ross?"

"Think I'll go for a jog on the beach." He didn't feel fit to be around company. Not even at the bottom of the garden. He had a lot of thinking to do.

After lunch, when he saw Pamela was in good hands, he left. He had seen Mama say to Pamela, "Who needs a hug today?"

Pamela went into her arms and was squeezed tight. John Ross didn't know if she had ever confided their situation to Mama Joy or how much she knew. Either way, he was glad this woman had come into her lives.

But the jumble of guilt and anger he himself felt, he could not allow anyone to witness. Not even for the price of a much needed hug.

When John Ross got to the beach he took off, jogging past all the tourists and it was many miles later at a deserted beach that he stopped, out of breath. He now walked in circles, the same way his mind was moving.

Because of the time line his actions in Dallas had unleashed, the repercussions to Pamela's ordeal kept unfolding. Would it ever end? What if she was pregnant by that sadistic doctor? Would she have to face a possible abortion? How could she make that choice when she had already lost two babies?

Now he was angry at God. God was supposed to be just. How could an innocent person be made to pay for the sins of a scoundrel?

He whipped his shirt off and ran into the water, swimming out deeper and deeper with angry strokes. This would surely break her. "Dear God," he yelled at the sky, "put it on me. This is on me. Take it out of my hide, not hers."

That same moment a giant wave broke, right on top of his head. It tumbled him and dragged him under till he felt his head hit the rocks below. He had the fleeting thought that this was his answer. And he was okay with this punishment. Let his miserable life end.

Then he thought of her being left alone, to face the future, and suddenly he wanted his life, if only so that he may act as a shield for her, for whatever was to come.

He now swam up desperately, for the surface. When he made it he couldn't see land. He didn't know how far out he had swum in his fury. But he had to make it back to shore. He tried not to get clocked by another breaking wave and to body surf on its back instead. He made it to shore, so tired he barely managed to crawl out of the water before he collapsed.

The overriding thought in his mind now was that it didn't matter what happened about the pregnancy. He had no opinions. He would simply do what Pamela wanted. If she wanted to keep the child, he would raise it as his own.

He tasted blood on his lip and realized he had a gash on his forehead that was oozing blood down the side of his face. He got up and washed his wound and made his way back to the house He cleaned himself up before going to pick up Pamela. No one needed to know he had just had a near death experience that day. 


	11. Season 1, Episode 11 - Christopher

John Ross and Pamela S E 11 - Christopher

John Ross woke up to find Pamela had gone to the restaurant and that he had a voicemail from Cristopher that said, "Hey John Ross, I know you said not to talk to anybody about your being in St. Kitts, but Emma has been talking about how much she misses Pamela, so can I tell her where you guys are?"

Pacing around the patio, he dialed Christopher's number immediately. Manipulative little bitch. He'd have to tell Christopher the truth about Emma.

"What's going on John Ross?" the voice on the other end of the line asked.

"I've got stuff to tell you. But first off, I gotta say, watch out for Emma. Under no circumstances let her get anywhere near your phone or your computer."

"Hey man. What's that about?"

"Emma's obsessed with Pamela. As in, romantically obsessed. She's threatened some stuff. This was one of the reasons I had to take Pamela away from Dallas."

"For real?"

"Now, don't get into it with her. It's not worth it and it will only make her more dangerous."

"Wish you'd told me this before. It explains why she's been cozying up to me. It's been kind of weird."

"Yeah, well, she's got a purpose." John Ross finished. "Christopher, I gotta ask you, what's going on with the investigation of Doctor Macnamara?"

"Well, Bum looked into him, all the way back to his college days, trying to find dirt on him. He found nothing. So I went to the detective, remember the one that helped us with the Harris Ryland investigation? He says he's going to look into it, but he'd need an official affidavit from Pamela to stop this guy and get him arrested."

John Ross exploded. "No way, Pamela's not going anywhere near that psycho."

"She wouldn't have to-"

"No! The victim should not be responsible for bringing the criminal to justice! Up till last week we couldn't even talk to her about it, because she didn't know what had happened to her. And now that she does, she's dealing with worse stuff."

Christopher paused, cautious, "Like what?"

"Like, the possibility that she might be carrying his child."

"Christ!"

The fact he had a beautiful ocean view before him did nothing to assuage his angst. "And then, she might have to decide- To decide on an abortion. You should see what she's like around babies. It's like she's drawn to them like a magnet."

"And she needs to know about the babies she's lost. We might have to tell her...ah man... I can't do this alone Christopher, you're going to have to come. If we tell her about the twin babies, she's going to suffer that loss all over again. I can't watch her go through that."

When they hung up it was with the promise that Christopher would fly out the very next day. And that he would cover his tracks so no one could trace his itinerary. The Ewing boys weren't taking any chances. They were closing ranks and circling the wagons.

John Ross also specified, that Christopher would be silent on certain subjects, unless and until he was needed.

He now went to the restaurant to pick up Pamela so they could go to the to the St. Kitts hospital where the OB/GYN was on staff.

"You okay?" He asked as he drove her across the island.

"No."

"Hey. It's gonna be alright, I'm with you. All the way, Pammie."

She didn't say another word. The silent Pamela was the one that worried him.

"What did Mama Joy say?" he asked.

"Nothing. She doesn't know."

"Bet you could talk to her about it."

"Maybe, I will."

At the hospital, they met Dr. Anika, an Indian looking woman, originally from Trinidad.

"How do you do? Tell me what I can do for you?"

Pamela spoke, "We need you to do a...a pregnancy test, and...to tell us how long I've been pregnant. If I am pregnant, that is."

"Very well, let's start with the date of your last period."

"I can't say. I don't remember."

The doctor looked puzzled. But she did not pry.

"I see. That is not so unusual. When is the date of your last intercourse?"

"Two months ago."

"Do you have any children?"

"No."

"Have you ever been pregnant before?"

"No."

John Ross was very uncomfortable. When Dr. Anika sent Pamela out to an examining room he hastened to tell her, "My wife was pregnant before, with twins. She lost them. She doesn't know this. It's...suppressed."

He hastened to add, "If she is pregnant now, if it's older than two months it would be a result of rape."

"I see. Dr. Gina did tell me there were difficult circumstances. I had no idea they were this delicate. What was the reason she lost your babies?"

"She was in an explosion."

"Oh my goodness, how awful."

"There was an aneurism. They repaired it but the babies still died."

"And you say she's unaware of all this?"

"She knows she was raped. The rest, well, Dr. Gina is helping us bring it back to her memory."

She left him there, and he took long deep breaths to calm himself. But he felt a grenade was about to explode in his chest.

The following day they gathered in Dr. Gina's office.

"I received some of your results," Dr. Gina said. "Not all of them, but some, and we can begin with those. We'll take this little by little, okay?"

"Remember, Pamela, nothing's going to happen to you that you don't want it to. You will be in control of making the decisions from now on. But in order to do so you might need some information that is hidden in your mind. And there may be some discomfort in going to get that information. But whatever happened in the past didn't kill you, you survived it. Now we just have to help you process it."

"Focus on what you have in your life now. Hang onto that, Pamela."

John Ross now said, "That's right, you always got me baby. I'll be with you through it all."

Pamela had drifted off and now John Ross was calling her back to the present. She'd noticed he had checked his cell phone several times. Now he was asking, "Pammie, did you hear me?"

"No."

"Christopher's outside."

"Christopher's here?"

"Yes. He's here. Well, he's here 'cause I asked him to come. Do you mind if he comes in?"

"I guess it's okay." She looked at Gina. John Ross must've cleared it with Gina ahead of time. She was sure he had a reason for this.

When Christopher came in, he gave her a very gentle hug. But then he squeezed her tight. "I'm so sorry Pamela," he said.

Christopher had always had the most expressive eyes. While John Ross' were hard to read, Christopher's gave everything away and she could see deep caring in them. She felt comforted even though she didn't know what was about to happen.

As they all sat down again Gina opened the test results and said, "Are you ready?"

John Ross squeezed her hand and she nodded.

"Dr Anika says the results of the test are positive. But she was not able to determine the age of the fetus yet. It's very difficult at this stage."

"So it could be mine," John Ross said, and then corrected himself, "I mean, ours."

"No matter what, it IS mine, John Ross," Pamela said.

"I didn't mean that, Baby. It could still be ours, even if...if it's his."

"There is another issue that Dr. Anika wants you to know," she said, "that this is likely to be a very high risk pregnancy, because of your medical history."

"What history?" Pamela asked.

Dr. Gina cleared her throat. "Pamela, Christopher is here because he constitutes a significant part of your past that is relevant to your future."

Pamela turned to Christopher as he said, "Pamela, when you and I were married before, you were pregnant." At her pulling back in horror, "Yeah Pamela, you were pregnant with twins, our twin babies."

"Where are they, where are my babies?"

"I'm so sorry to tell you this. Our babies didn't make it to term, you lost them."

"No! That is awful, you are lying. How could you say such a thing? I don't remember any of this. I would NEVER forget my babies."

"It's true Baby. I was there when it happened," John Ross said.

"Then why didn't you tell me this? Why am I the last one to know? Who stole this from me? I would NEVER forget my babies. I want to remember them. Right now."

"Pamela, it may be for the best-" Dr. Gina began.

"No! It's not for the best! You take this, this block out of my brain right now! Right now! I want to remember them."

"Alright, take a deep breath. Relax. Listen to the sound of my voice. You will remember from the first moment you were aware of them, of being pregnant." She counted backwards. "Now tell me what you feel as the memories come back. Talk to me."

It was a two hour ordeal, her reliving of it all. She spoke about her love for the baby from the very first moment she knew she was pregnant. Then, of finding out they were two and not one. Her humiliation at having a DNA test done, because Christopher didn't believe they were his. The pregnancy had changed her, and she no longer wanted to follow through with the plan. But Tommy wouldn't desist, and became violent. She remembered getting a gun from the bank vault to protect herself. Trying to get him to leave and when he came for her, she remembered pulling the trigger to keep him from beating her and hurting her babies.

Then came the months of disputing with Christopher over the annulment, how that made her feel so alone. And during that time, her daddy was still pressuring her to get the shares of Ewing Energies, when all she wanted was a father like Christopher, that would pay attention to his babies. She didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that.

When she started to remember about the explosion on the rig and being taken to the hospital it became overwhelming. She cried through the telling of it.  
The ordeal in the hospital, the operation, the excruciating pain, the fetal monitors running out the clock. The terrible shooting pain of losing her babies.

Then, came the void. Trying to come to grips with the loss. Feeling strangely disembodied and empty.

Her father never came to see her, until he took over Ewing Energies. Now she started wailing, and became nearly incoherent as she recounted finding out that her father had been behind the rig explosion, and later, getting the confirmation that he had known she was on board, that he had knowingly endangered her babies.

"Aaaaaoow oooh," she wailed, hands and hair covering her face.

John Ross started begging the doctor. "That's enough. For God's sake bring her out of this."

"Pamela, listen to me, try to calm yourself, take deep breaths." Doctor Gina woke her from the hypnosis but the moment she was conscious she took in a great breath of air and started crying again, "My babies, he took my babies, oh, oh, oh. Why did he kill my babies? Oh Christopher, he killed our babies."

John Ross was holding her because she seemed to have lost all physical coherence and couldn't even sit upright. He kept saying, "Shshh Baby, don't, it's going to be alright, don't take on like this."

Christopher had hold of her hand, "Pamela, listen. The babies are buried at Southfork. You can visit their graves."

He moved out of the way now, as the assistant came in with a sedative the doctor had ordered for Pamela.

After the shot had been administered the doctor said, "Jonh Ross listen, I'm going to have her admitted. I'm going to need to have her under observation twenty four seven, both for her own sake and for the sake of the baby."

"What's going to happen now?" he asked.

"Now, we wait and see. Either she can bear it or she can't. Time will tell." 


	12. Season 1, Episode 12 - The Renewal

John Ross and Pamela - E1 S12 - The Renewal

John Ross and Christopher walked up the steps of Mama Joy's restaurant dragging their feet. It had been a long day of trauma, watching Pamela suffer through the loss of her babies. They had taken her to the hospital and seen her settled for the night. But Dr. Gina had insisted tomorrow she might need them and so she didn't allow John Ross to stay by Pamela's bedside. Reluctantly, John Ross left, but then thought of one more thing he had to do for Pamela that night.

"Ah, John Ross, I hate to be a stick in the mud," Christopher said, "but I'm starved."

There was a bit of a commotion going on in the family corner, so John Ross hung back and ordered some food for himself and Christopher. When she spotted John Ross, though, Mama Joy came right over.

After she welcomed Christopher she frowned and said, "And where's your better half at, John Ross?"

"As a matter of fact Mama, she's in the hospital," he answered quietly.

"What's happened to my angel girl?"

John Ross had to swallow hard. Angel girl. He'd always wanted to put his finger on a word that would describe her. "I wanted to ask you if you would go see her. She's had a shock and is feeling very low. Could you?"

"Take me there," she said.

"Ah. I meant, when you can. It doesn't have to be now."

"I can go right now. I will stay the night with her," Mama Joy insisted.

"Just like that, no questions asked?" John Ross' felt he was on the verge of tears. Kindness had a way of overwhelming him. He never expected it.

They decided John Ross would take Mama Joy to the hospital tomorrow at seven in the morning. They stayed to eat their meal, then made their way back to flamingo house.

Christopher walked around, saw the grand room with the kitchen and the soft couches. "This is nice, John Ross, homey," he said.

"She thought we would be happy here," he said, forlorn.

"She'll be back here, cousin," Christopher squeezed his shoulder.

On the terrace, with beers in hand, John Ross confessed, "I've made such horrible mistakes."

"Haven't we all?" Christopher answered.

"Yeah, but mine are what hurt Pamela. All this, it's my fault."

"John Ross that can't possibly be true. You love her, don't you?"

"Oh yes, it can be true, cousin. Because that's exactly what I did," he swallowed another gulp of the cold, numbing liquid and wished he was drinking something harder.

"How?"

"I cheated on her," he said. "With Emma."

"Damn."

"She was so destroyed she tried to take her own life. That's how come she ended up in that hospital for three months under the care of that...that psycho."

Christopher looked out to the sea. "You know, all this time I thought she tried to commit suicide because of the babies, and I've felt really bad about it. That I didn't do more to help her through it, but I thought you had that base covered. I thought you loved her, John Ross."

"I did. I do. I was just an arrogant son of a bitch who thought she would never find out. I was just cooking a deal, using Emma to get the Ryland transportation assets."

Christopher said nothing, so John Ross continued. "You know, Christopher, that's what we do in our family. We scheme and whore for business. And I wanted to be the best one at it. The first one to bring in a deal. I wanted to be my father's son, so badly. I was addicted to power. My mother warned me about it and she was right."

"I don't know, maybe I still am messed up like that, but I finally figured out what's important to me, and it's that woman back there in the hospital." He sighed. "I just don't know if I can fix what I've broken."

"Well, at least you're trying."

"Oh, I'll die trying. And I'll kill the first son of a bitch who tries to hurt her using my dirty dealings to do it. And that's why I got her out of Dallas. Because they were going after her."

"Who was going after her, John Ross?" Christopher frowned, "Emma?"

"Nickolas Trevino. He was the one who originally sent her the video of me and Emma. I know that's what caused her to break, finding out like that."

"That's awful. So they were trying to turn Pamela against us so they could have her shares?"

"Yeah, and they didn't care if they broke her in the process. When she got out of the hospital they were going to go after her again, to try to turn her. He implied as much, the smug son of a bitch. I figured as soon as he realized she didn't remember anything, he would send the tape to her again."

"Why don't you just tell her everything, John Ross? So she won't be this vulnerable."

"I've tried," John Ross answered. "But that is the one thing she says she doesn't want to know about, who I cheated with. You see? That leaves me in one hell of a pickle because I can't protect her from them!"

He took a long pull on his beer. "And there's still this shit about Cliff Barnes and Uncle Bobby framing him for killing JR. And you and I, Christopher, we colluded in it. So that's hanging over my head too. One more lie."

"He deserves what he got," Christopher ground out.

"But he's innocent." John Ross murmured, as he finished his beer.

"Not of killing our babies," Christopher ended.

The next morning John Ross and Christopher picked up Mama Joy. When they arrived at the hospital Gina was already there.

"How is she?" John Ross asked.

"Quiet. She's not talking."

"Now, if there is anybody who could get her to talk, it's this lady right here," He introduced Mama.

Pamela was feeling a great anguish; the kind that makes you numb and tired. If she could just curl up in a ball and go to sleep, things would pass. When she saw Mama Joy's face though, she felt something flood her, and she sat up to be hugged.

"Tell me what this is all about now." Mama Joy said in a mock stern voice.

"Who let you in here?" Pamela responded in the same vein.

"That no good husband of yours."

"Ah. That figures." Pamela now remembered him fetching Afton when...when she was in another hospital.

"Well, tell me straight, what the trouble is. I left the beans a'soaking, but I'm not going back there till we lick this."

"It's a long story."

"I got the patience of Job and you're not going to scare me."

Pamela told her everything, in a surprisingly short time. What helped was the fact that mama Joy didn't interrupt. Neither did she utter clucking sounds of great pity. She merely took it all in, nodding at times and wagging her head at others.

At the end of it all she said, "Darling, I'm heart sore that you've had all this trouble. You certainly didn't deserve it. But there it is. And you have to think about what you're going to do now."

"I don't know what to do now." Pamela said. "Tell me what to do."

"Honey child," she said, "You're not the first woman to be faced with bearing the child of her rapist."

"Thousands and thousands of women have borne children of soldiers coming through. Or, of slave masters. You see?" She turned Pamela's hand over in her brown worn hands and patted it. "Even today, some places in the world they still use rape as a weapon of war. You're not the first one and you won't be the last."

"Now. All you have to decide is if you can do this, if you can give this child life. Life itself is a gift. If you can't raise it yourself you give it to somebody else who can love it. And then you've given a double gift."

Pamela knew the tears were dripping down her face and she didn't even try to wipe them.

Mama Joy went on, saying all the things that needed to be said. "But if you can't do that, you give it back to God. And since he is a just God he has a recompense for the innocent who don't get to live this life."

"You believe that, Mama Joy?"

"Yes, I do, my lamb. It's simple. A woman does what she can bear to do in this circumstance."

Pamela thought about that, later. Not about the unborn child but about the twins. Was there a recompense for them?

Were her babies actually safe and well cared for, and happy? Did she believe that?

She found that she did. That she wanted to and so she would. She didn't care what everyone else thought. This was sufficient for her to find some peace. She took it in with her breathing, and the weight on her chest slowly lifted.

Later that day, she shared this new found belief with Christopher, before he left for Dallas. They cried together and hugged each other.

Christopher had an odd thought when he left. How could he have let a woman like that go? He had not recognized her for what she was, a deeply loving and sensitive woman who had been misguided for a time by loyalty to her father. They could have been happy if only he had been able to forgive her. Instead, he had taken up with Elena. And that had ended up in nothing.

While John Ross went to take Christopher to the airport Pamela had some time to reflect.

How could she ask him to do this? The thing that she was thinking about doing. She would have to choose between him and the baby, because no man would agree to raise his wife's rapist child. And this was an innocent child, of that she was certain. Her talk with Mama Joy this morning had only served to confirm it. She decided she was its mother, no matter what. She would raise it on her own if need be. But she would wait to know for sure whose child it was before she told John Ross of her decision.

John Ross was able to bring Pamela home the following day as Gina thought she was stable enough.

"Shall I order something for dinner, Baby?" he asked, as he drove her across the island.

"No, stop at the market. I want to cook." She took a while choosing her carrots, and cucumbers, and celery.

After dinner they wandered out to the hammock and Pamela asked for a foot rub.

"For real?" John Ross said. "You're going to start playing the pregnant woman card so soon?"

"Oh yes, I'm going to play it to the hilt." Pamela answered.

Through out the foot rub she moaned and sighed so much he distracted himself by tickling her. She ended on his lap, like a cuddly kitten and he could no longer restrain himself. He stole a quick hard kiss from her lips.

"Sorry," he said, after.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, sliding a hand inside his shirt, her blue eyes focused on his, her lips moist and parted.

"Okay then, I'm not sorry." He held her body close and kissed her again.

Then he nibbled her ear. He ran his fingers through her hair and massaged her head and she moaned again. He found he was in a fever to make love to her.

But he denied himself, with severe discipline, because he was taking no chances that Pamela would end up back in the hospital that night. She didn't seem to remember she was playing with fire. Only he knew how horrifying her panic attacks were and he'd be damned if he'd provoke one.

Pamela went back to her cooking classes after that and John Ross fell into the habit of trading in the stock market during the morning. He had needed a business challenge and found he was sort of good at it. He usually picked Pamela up and had lunch at Mama Joy's. From there, they would go for long walks on the beach in the afternoon or play in a local volleyball game. If there was a local baseball game in the evenings, where Godwin or one of the cousins were playing, they would go and watch with Mama Joy's family. Pamela would invariably end up with a baby on her lap.

Their lives took on a beautiful rhythm, and their unconsummated love affair seemed to strain only John Ross. Even so, every day he counted himself as the luckiest man on earth.

One day, he caught Mama Joy when Pamela was engaged elsewhere and asked her if she knew a priest that would do a renewal of vows ceremony. She was very pleased to conspire with him to set up the ceremony during a "fake" family beach gathering. Pamela was kept totally in the dark.

John Ross invited Drs. Gina and Anika to this event, telling a puzzled Pamela when they arrived, "Ah darling, it's a special occasion, you'll see."

When the group was gathered on the beach and the matrons duly seated on beach chairs John Ross had purchased (along with a grill he was going to baptize with a real Texas barbecue later) he called on everyone to give him their attention.

"Uh, excuse me everyone, if you could all please give me your full attention, especially that beautiful lady over there, holding the beautiful baby, so beautifully. Yeah, Godwin, my official photographer, take a picture of her, just like that. Now, if someone could relieve her of that baby, thank you. Pamela Barnes Ewing, inasmuch as I love you with all my heart, darling, and want to spend all the remaining days of our lives together, would you consent darling," he was walking across the circle towards her, "to have the honorable Rev. Elias Hosannah here renew our wedding vows for us?"

At this point, when he reached her and took her hand, she whispered, "John Ross, I haven't talked to you about the baby yet."

He took both her hands and said, in a private voice, "There's nothing to say darling, this is our baby, and we're going to raise it together."

Then in a public voice he said, "How about it?"

A teary eyed Pamela said, "Alright. Do it."

He then opened a box Godwin handed to him and pulled out a bridal bouquet of white orchids, which he placed in her hands. Then he pinned a half veil on her head with clumsy fingers and slipped her hand through his arm to face the preacher.

The Reverend gave an impassioned speech, on the importance of the institution of marriage, and what it took to keep it running. The gathered family participated often, with "Amen to that," and "Here, here, hallelujah."

Next, he asked each if they took the other. John Ross wondered whether he had paid any attention at all to his first wedding ceremony, because the words "keeping only unto each other" and "in sickness or in health," and "so long as ye both shall live" had so much more meaning for him now. He realized they were the clauses of the contract, the instructions for the recipe, the qualities that insured it's success or failure.

His bride was smiling through her tears, all signs of the regal and distant Pamela had vanished. She was radiant and all present.

John Ross took a sapphire band from a small box in his pocket and slid it onto Pamela's finger. He then kissed her so hard she threw her arms around his neck and crushed him too. The whooping and clapping went on for long minutes and then they were engulfed in hugs and congratulations from all sides.

Later, as John Ross and the men were grilling and joking around Mama Joy said to Pamela, "Tell me what more you've wished for, dear."

Pamela looked across the way, at a jubilant John Ross and said, "Nothing. I have it all."

"Yes, hang on to that."

That week Dr. Anika scheduled an ultrasound to determine the age of the baby. The results were surprising.

She moved the detector around on Pamela's belly and pointed to the cursor on the screen and said, "Well, my friends, look at that, you have one heartbeat there and another one over here."

"W-what?" John Ross was totally paralyzed.

"We have twins." Pamela said, a look of compassion on her face. She kissed his hand, which was squeezing hers.

"Now, according to these measurements, it puts the age of the babies..."

Both of them held their breath.

"Well inside the margin. Yes, it's no older than the date you arrived in Saint Kits."

Now it was John Ross who kissed the hand he was holding and then the lips of the mother of his children. "We're batting a thousand, baby," he said, looking in her misty, smiling eyes.

They left the doctor's and went straight to tell Mama Joy. They sat at the big family table in the corner and celebrated the news of twins as if they had already been carried to term. 


	13. Season 1, Episode 13 - Extreme Seduction

Season 1 Episode 13 - Extreme Seduction

For a man with such a checkered past in the seduction department it could be said that John Ross finally got his just deserts.

He could not account for why his wife had gone up ten points in the sexiness meter just by getting pregnant. Her skin had acquired the luster of pearls and her cheeks had a permanent blush. She looked at him with such love he thought he would ignite like a flame.

She was in a perpetual good mood. She cooked in shorts that left her long legs exposed, and in tops that seemed to always be falling off of one shoulder or another. When her shorts stopped fitting she just left the top button open. He found himself worrying, out loud, if they were going to fall off.

"So what?" She shrugged. "I'm in the house, nobody can see me."

_I_ can see you, you...playboy bunny. "Can't we afford you some new clothes? They have a name for them, don't they? Mother clothes."

"Maternity clothes, dummy." She broke out into the most delicious, loud laughter and when he faked being offended she came for him with open arms, insisting on kissing him and then being held tightly in his arms, until he could hardly keep from pulling her down on the couch with him.

"Let's go get you some, then," he said, to get her on another track. "We can certainly afford them. Been making a ton of money on the stock market lately."

But that strategy turned out to be disastrous. When they found a maternity shop, she was suddenly very enthusiastic about the maternity clothes, and insisted on modeling them for his approval.

These shorts were no less short, and the tops no less skimpy, except that she insisted they were sooo cute and comfortable she had to try them all.

Afterwards, he took her to dinner at one of the hotels.

"I can cook," she protested.

"Darling, I can't allow that." He didn't say it was because she had already spent so much energy on clothes shopping. He said instead, "You had me doing such hard work there, judging all those clothes, I'm starving. I couldn't bear to wait the three hours it would take for you to cook dinner."

"Oh pooh. You're such a liar," she said. "You just hate my food."

"I promise you, I DO NOT hate your food."

When they got home she insisted on showing how grateful she was. But he maneuvered her out of her amorous state. "Darling, you look dead on your feet, let me put you to bed with a foot rub. You know you can't resist my foot rubs."

"Okay," she answered, and extended her arms, for him to pick her up and carry her.

As time went by this became another tease of hers, "I'm too heavy for you now," she would say.

He then had to insist on showing her he could pick her up just fine. He didn't realize until later that he had been training for a life saving marathon.

But the tricky part of carrying her to bed was that she would make him fall into bed with her and put a hand on her belly to feel the flutter of the babies. From there, kissing her tummy, her hair, her lips were easy steps to forgetting he had to keep away from her.

It was precisely on one of these occasions that Pamela decided she had had enough. Whether it was because of her pregnancy or some other reason related to her panic attacks concerning sex, she and John Ross had been practicing this hands-off platonic love affair.

No matter how hard she tried to seduce him he managed to evade her. At first she thought she was no longer wanted. But so many things he did testified to his love for her.

She decided to stop tip-toeing around and give him no escape. For herself, she had no fears. She knew what she wanted and that was John Ross Ewing.

"Excuse me, darling, there's a bit of work I just got to get done tonight, so I can bid on these stocks tomorrow," he said, rolling out of her grasp and getting out of bed.

"Don't darling me, John Ross," she said. "Not unless you're willing to put your money where your mouth is."

"Baby, I just don't think we should do this now, you and the babies need your rest."

She got out of bed now, and blocked his path, insinuating herself into his arms again. "Don't blame our babies John Ross. Don't you-," she sniffed, "don't you want me anymore?"

He tightened his hold on her, "Baby, I want you something fierce."

"Nothing's going to happen," she whispered, "I promise."

The gusto with which John Ross had formerly enjoyed his sex life returned. His joy in this moment exceeded anything he had ever felt before. To be given another taste of something he had once taken for granted and then, had had taken away from him, perhaps forever, felt like an absolution from Providence.

For Pamela, the feeling was all ecstasy. To be touched, to be caressed, to be loved with such gentleness and yet such passion. The intensity just mounted in her until she realized she couldn't breathe anymore. Her throat had seized up, her lungs could not bear it. She mustered all her courage and said, "John Ross, Baby, can you excuse me for just a sec?"

"Sure baby, I'll be right here."

She couldn't let him see her like this. She had to calm her nerves. But when she got to the bathroom and locked the door behind her, she experienced an overwhelming desire to vomit. She turned on the water in the sink to cover the sound of it and kneeled down in front of the toilet and emptied all the contents of her stomach.

"Baby?" she heard, from outside the door.

Oh my God. She couldn't hurt him like this. He could not know what was going on. She had to calm herself. He had been so sweet, so loving. Sooo understanding of all her setbacks.

But she knew. It hurt him to be denied. It destroyed his pride. It made him feel unloved and a beggar for affection. John Ross would never beg for love. He would simply go without. But after a while he came to believe he didn't deserve any. She knew him. At the core of this very cocky man was just a little boy, fighting for love.

"Baby? Don't do this. You can't lock the door. I have to know you're alright." His voice was filled with fear.

"Baby, I'm fine." She said, hastily wiping the tears off her face. Why couldn't she give the man she loved what she wanted to give him? She was furious with herself.

She got up and unlocked the door.

"Thank you," he said. But he did not come in.

When she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later he was not there. There was a note on the bed that said,

"Went for a jog,  
love you,  
Sleep well."

She cried herself to sleep waiting for him to come home. She had hurt him so badly he couldn't let her see it. He was out there in the night, jogging alone. With the devil on his trail.

The next morning when John Ross woke up he also found a note on the pillow, instead of his wife.

"Went to see Gina.  
be back soon  
love you"

Gina had agreed to take Pamela before her first patient since she could not wait till her weekly scheduled appointment. What she saw in front of her was a deeply angry woman. Pamela had always appeared too passive to be normal and Gina was happy to see her expressing another range of emotions.

"Whats got your panties in a bind?"

"There is something wrong with me," she said. "Something deeply wrong with me."

"What do you think it is?" Gina prodded.

"I want to make love to my husband so bad. So bad I'm like a bitch in heat."

"Well the hormones of pregnancy-"

"Forget the hormones! I looove that man! I literally ache for him. I want to show him how I feel. I want his arms around me. "

"Okay so what's the problem? Dr Anika hasn't forbidden it, has she? Because it's GOOD for the babies."

Pamela explained, "When he touches me here, or here, I shut down."

"Wow. That seems like a very specific trigger. "

"Can you put me under hypnosis and find out why?"

"I can help you remember but we don't know what we'll find."

"I don't want to remember, I just want you to get inside my mind, find out what is wrong, and fix it."

John Ross was trying to concentrate on his stocks portfolio but to no avail. He wanted to know what was going on in Gina's office. It wasn't unusual for Pamela to see her alone, she had been doing that for some time now. But her emergency appointment this morning surely had to do with the events of last night. Was Gina unlocking more of her subconscious? Letting lose other memories?

If, so, he should brace himself. Anything could happen now. This could be the day of reckoning. The day when she would finally decide to kick him to the curb.

He heard the car pull in at that moment and stayed exactly where he was. He had to be sitting down if his knees were about to be cut out from under him.

She walked into the house with a purpose and threw her bag down on the couch.

He stood up, she kissed him with the force of the old, bold Pamela.

"Um, that was nice, dar-"

"Touch me. Touch me there," she moved his hands.

"Wait, let's not start this again," he said, persuading.

"Touch me there!"

"Pammie, let's not start something we can't finish. It's hard, you know. I'm a guy."

She pushed her body into his, while he held up his hands like a man under arrest, and backed away. Now she had him against a wall. She grabbed his collar with both hands. "What? You can sleep around with any hoochie that offers but you're going to deny me my rights?"

"Ha ha ha! Deny your-"

She slapped him now.

He grabbed her by the wrists, "Whoah, woman. What's gotten into you?"

"I'm mad. No, I'm furious," she stomped.

"I'm listening," he said, looking down into her eyes.

"That son of a bitch doctor stuck something in my brain. An off switch for sex!"

"A what?"

"He made it so that if you touched me there, or there, I'd get sick."

"So-" he breathed now, his anger at the doctor vying with his reawakened lust for his wife. It wasn't an aversion to him, after all.

"So, I had it taken out."

"Are you sure?" He started to kiss her face in odd places.

"Let's test it out, Baby. Pleeease," she said.

He picked her up in his arms now and carried her off to their bedroom.

It was a month since John Ross and Pamela had a achieved total felicity. The beautiful rhythm of life had been enhanced by the addition of a healthy sex life. Pamela was now six months pregnant, and without complications.

Their counseling work with Gina had also steadily progressed. They had learned about themselves and about each other. And they now knew what they valued above all things.

Dr. Anika encouraged Pamela not to over exert herself, and to wear a weight bearing belt as she gained pounds with the pregnancy. Because her trauma with the previous twins had involved the placenta partially detaching from the uterus wall it was highly possible she might spend the last months of the pregnancy in bed rest. But the longer she went without signs of trouble, the better became the odds of her carrying to term.

Pamela was very focused on getting things ready for the babies. A smaller guest room was being converted into a nursery. Pamela wanted it painted a very light shade of blue because they'd discovered the babies were twin boys. They did it together, which meant John Ross did ninety five percent of it, while she gave unnecessary instructions and did imaginary touch ups.

John Ross encouraged Pamela to shop over the internet, because going out on daily shopping sprees was exhausting. But this meant he was the one who had to assemble cribs and dressers and changing tables. Lucky for him, it was always with much help and encouragement. He found she was more adept at reading the assemblage instructions than he was. She had had previous experience. In any case, they spent much time together in this labor of love.

"John Ross that doesn't go there. Turn it around, see? This screw goes here."

"I can drill for oil faster than I can put this here baby crib together," he mumbled, under his breath.

"You're silly. You're doing great." she kissed him on the cheek. "Aren't you happy doing this?"

"To tell you the truth Pamela Barnes, I'm happier than I think a man has a right to be. I never thought I'd come to have so much in my life. "

"What do you mean? Are your stock trades going so well?"

"I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about having a gorgeous sexy wife, and babies of my own. A family, a kick ass family. Damn!"

"And why do you think you don't have a right to that?"

"'Cause I come from a broken family. I never believed in happily ever after. And most of all, because I've done things. Things that make me undeserving."

"John Ross, I know you cheated on me."

"With somebody you know."

She held up her hand "I've told you I don't care about who-"

"It was Emma." He couldn't hold it in anymore.

She stopped all movement. Then she struggled to get up from her cross legged position and he jumped up to help her. When she was standing she shook his hands off and walked into the master bedroom and locked the door.

Before she'd closed it he said. "I'm so sorry baby. But you had to know."

But was that true? Or had he just told her to get it off his chest? So he could stop living as if he had a sword hanging over his head. It was selfish. If he had to carry that secret till the end of his life it would be a just penance. He should not have unloaded it onto her.

But was he being entirely fair? Didn't their new life together deserve the truth?

Pamela went into the bedroom, but only because she wanted to get away from John Ross. What she really needed was to put some distance between herself and this house. She'd been cooped up almost without leaving for days now.

Every time she learned something about her past, she felt like the earth shook beneath her feet and she had to regroup. Now, she stepped out of the bedroom through the terrace doors and made her way to the little garden gate leading down the steps to the shore. If she walked on the beach maybe she could think this out. She'd left everything behind, including her cell phone, so she could be in peace.


	14. Season 1, Episode 14 - The Departure

Season 1 – Episode 14 – The Departure

SEASON FINALE

Pamela kicked off her shoes so her feet could feel the sand. She started walking slowly, ruminating.

John Ross and Emma. John Ross and Emma. That's what had made her want to kill herself.

John Ross and Emma. When? Had they planned it? Had they laughed at her? She remembered now Emma shopping with her for wedding night lingerie. She remembered her asking slightly intrusive questions about their sex life. Had she been tracking them? John Ross had said it was to get a deal. What deal could have been so important? She remembered now that he had been trying to get a Ryland transportation deal at one point.

But had John Ross been using Emma or had Emma been using John Ross? Obviously Emma was not the young innocent she passed herself off as.

Obviously, if she wanted answers she would have to let John Ross tell her the whole story. Something he had been begging her for months to let him do.

Pamela stopped walking now. She realized she was a little out of breath. She looked up at her surroundings and couldn't recognize where she was. The gentle hill with back yards giving out to the sea, even the ones with long stairs, had ended at some point. Above her were cliffs. Right then she felt a strong pressure bearing her belly down. She grabbed her belly with both hands, then sunk down into the sand yelling "Aaaaoow."

"Calm yourself, Pamela," she self-admonished. "Deserted beach. No cell phone. Nowhere to turn for help. Breathe. Stay calm."

"He'll come for you. He'll find you. He'll notice you're gone and he'll come looking. He's never failed you."

"You hear that, babies? He'll come. Daddy will come. That's right." She felt woozy, like her pressure had dropped, or gone up, or something. "We're just going to take a nap. He'll be here soon."

John Ross was pacing, up and down the driveway, and around his car. He didn't know who to call. He felt that had been the stupidest, most asinine thing he'd ever done.

He called Christopher. "John Ross. How's it going?"

"I told Pamela about Emma."

Pause. "How'd she take it?"

"She locked herself in the bedroom."

"How long ago?"

"Half an hour."

"Did you check on her?"

"I'm trying to give her some space."

"I'd go check. Call me back later."

He went in to the bedroom when he didn't get an answer. He saw the open terrace door and no one in the garden so he went back in, to see if she was in the house. The babies' room was empty. She couldn't have gone out to the street or she would have passed him. Now he froze.

She wouldn't have gone down the steps to the ocean because coming back up them was too much exertion. Pamela knew this, she would not take any risks.

But if she were out of her right mind? He was flying down those steps now. At the bottom, he looked both ways, unsure. Then he spotted her shoes by the water. It was like a boxer's punch in the solar plexus.

He coughed it out, gasping for air, while at the same time scouting the ground for tracks. When he found them he took off running in that direction.

The steps up the hill to other houses were becoming higher and steeper. There was still no sign of her. Her tracks were gone. Either she had been walking in the water or...

"No, no, no."

He jogged out into the next little bay and saw the forbidding cliff side now rising. No way out, only forward. He ran full speed ahead now.

And then he saw the body on the sand.

In another few minutes he was kneeling down beside his wife. Her eyes were closed.

"Pamie?" He touched her face.

She opened fearful eyes. "John Ross. I'm so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing."

"It's okay, Baby. Everything is going to be alright. How you feeling?"

"Faint." She answered, and closed her eyes.

He pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed Godwin. "Hey, brother. I have an emergency. I need an ambulance. Pamela's...on the beach, the cliffs beyond my house. You probably can't get a vehicle in here..."

"It's okay. We'll find you," Godwin said.

John Ross knew the stakes. He remembered. He had been here before. But he was glad she didn't remember. And he mustn't let it show.

He now picked her up, carefully. He raised himself up from a kneeling position, took a deep breath and braced himself for a mile long walk.

"Is she still after you?" Pamela asked, from nothing, five minutes into this trek.

"Who?" He breathed. But he knew whom she was talking about. It was as if there were nothing but naked truth between them now.

"Emma."

"No. She gave up on me after a while."

"Is that... why we left...Dallas?"

"Save your energy, Baby."

"Need...answers."

"Alright. She seemed to have shifted her affections. From me...to you."

"What?"

"She's in love with you. And unbalanced. You don't really know her."

She didn't really ask anything more. It was just as well. He needed his wind. Where was help? Dear God, help us.

Rounding the cove now he saw Godwin, running for him at full speed.

He'd brought a blanket, which he spread on the ground. "Put her here. We'll make a sort of hammock."

When he tried to put Pamela down she said. "No."

"It's okay, Baby. We'll be there in no time. You just stay calm like you're doing."

"Not calm. Hurts."

He kissed her forehead. "Where?"

"Cramps."

Cramps. That meant the babies were coming. Could babies survive this young?

Only if they make it. God, he'd never really thought about what Christopher had gone through, why he'd fought so hard for all of them to make it.

But Christopher deserved his babies. He wasn't a selfish bastard like him. And still, his babies had been taken.

"Here they come." Godwin alerted him. And they saw two EMTs running down the beach, carrying a stretcher. Behind them was Godwin's cousin, Josiah, still in his tie and office clothes.

They put Pamela on the stretcher. One of the EMTs took her vitals and pressure. Then he shook his head, silent. All four men now carried the stretcher between them at a clipped pace.

John Ross used his free hand to call Dr Anika on his cell. "It's Pamela. She's coming in, in an ambulance. Hold on Dr." He handed the phone to the EMT that had taken her pressure.

At the hospital it was touch and go. Dr. Anika administered some hormone cocktail to keep the babies in. That's all John Ross understood. They stabilized her. When they first allowed him to see her the doctor said, "No strong emotions, we've got to keep her calm. But she's asking for you."

"Baby," he whispered, when he kissed her forehead. She was full of IV's, and surrounded by monitors.

She touched his face but didn't open her eyes. It seemed she was keeping all her focus on holding those babies. "I knew you'd come for us. You've never failed me. I forgive you. For everything. You're my heart, my soul, and my life."

Some monitor spiked and Dr. Anika said, "That's enough for right now."

He was ushered out, and the door slid shut behind him. He'd said nothing to her. And she'd said everything he'd ever needed to hear in his life. Was all this worth it, you sorry bastard?

He leaned on the wall and started sobbing. This is how Mama Joy and Godwin found him. They carried him to the waiting room, where several other family members were gathering. It seemed they had come for a prayer vigil. He was embarrassed, because he really didn't know how to pray. But every time his thoughts threatened to engulf him in lowness it seemed another member of the family would break out in a short, sincere and eloquent prayer. They prayed for Pamela, they prayed for the babies, and they prayed for him. And that's when he would break down all over again.

Pamela stayed in the hospital for two weeks. At the end Dr. Anika said to both of them, "You have resources, right?"

"You mean money?" John Ross clarified.

"Yes. If you do, I would recommend you to move Pamela. To a facility with a crack trauma team and neonatal ward. You might need both. Right here, this is not the best place. Our resources are limited.

"And if you're going to go off island, you have to go now, because I can't in good conscience recommend that Pamela fly after this."

John Ross relied on Christopher to get him a medical transport plane back to Dallas, while he closed up flamingo house. There wasn't much thought given to going anywhere else but Dallas.

"So, they'll be there tomorrow morning. And we'll see you when you land," Christopher said.

"Thanks cousin." John Ross thought of one more thing. "Any progress on Dr. Macnamara?"  
There was a pause on the other end. "Nothing yet. Bum got into the clinic video bank, tried to find video footage. There was nothing on Pamela anywhere."

"Listen, I've got to go. See you tomorrow. Tell no one we're coming."

"What about my dad? What about your mom?"

"No, not yet. They're both close to Annie and she's close to you know who. God, I wish we weren't going back into the lions den, the shark infested waters."

And that was the truth. Such peace and bliss and wholesomeness as they'd experienced here. It had brought sanity to their lives. How could they face going back to addiction, dysfunction and constant intrigue?

He put his phone in his pocket and walked into Pamela's hospital room.

"We're going to miss you all so…much." Pamela was saying to Mama Joy. John Ross' heart nearly stalled, seeing his wife in tears.

"That's right," he said, sitting on the bed beside her and putting his arm around her. "You all have taken us in, made us feel like family."

"You are part of the family." She hugged John Ross now, an honest to goodness bear hug. "Just as soon as you can, you bring those babies back to see me. Okay?"

"We don't know how to survive without you." Pamela said, crying harder.

"Well, I'll tell you how to stay out of trouble." She now took their hands. "You, my angel girl, you focus on the babies. And you, young man, you focus on her. Like you've been doing. If you both stay on that track you can't go wrong. And you'll be alright."

End of Season 1

SEASON 2

Will John Ross and Pamela be able to hang on to what they've learned? Will the temptations and pitfalls of Dallas conspire against them? Will their enemies and their secrets finally destroy their love?

Let me know if you'd like to see Season 2. 


	15. Season 2, Episode 1 - Toxic

John Ross and Pamela – S2 E1 - Toxic

Pamela was forewarned by John Ross that he'd called Afton to come down and see her in the hospital in Dallas. When she woke up that morning she was prepared.

"Here we are again Pammie. In the hospital. We have to stop meeting like this." Afton wagged her finger, as if Pamela had just been willfully naughty.

"I didn't do it on purpose, Mommy." Pamela let herself be kissed.

"Well, of course not. But you have to make the best of things." She reviewed her daughter from head to foot and then said, "No makeup, I see."

"Does it really matter? I'm in the hospital." Pamela replied.

Afton sighed and then said, "Ah honey, let me tell you, that's no way to keep a man."

"What?"

She rummaged in her purse and came up with assorted items of make up and started working on her daughters face. "Even under the worst of circumstances women gotta look their best. Close your eyes."

Pamela allowed herself to be fussed over for a moment because she knew that's how her mother expressed love, by fixing what was wrong with your face, your hair, your clothes.

"You can never trust that love, it is restless, always looking for a fresher, more lovely model," Afton said.

Pamela's stomach felt queasy now. What did her mother know? Had some gossip reached her about John Ross's infidelity? Did she think it was Pamela's fault? That she had failed to keep her man happy? Oh, she couldn't deal with all this right now. She had to focus on the babies.

Her voice lowered a notch. "Mama, I need my rest now. Come back tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" She put her hand to her bosom and said, "Young lady I'm sure I taught you better manners than that."

Pam didn't apologize as expected.

"Well I never," Afton clicked her tongue. "What am I supposed to do with the rest of my day?" She asked.

"Perhaps you can hang out at that expensive Hotel John Ross put you up in?"

"Yes, maybe I can rub shoulders with somebody who can better appreciate my company." She now retrieved her purse and left.

When she was out of ear range Pam said in the same gruff voice, "Yes, and good riddance. Don't let the door hit you on the way out. The last thing Pamela needs is someone messing with her mind right now. If John Ross knew how you treat your girl, he wouldn't have brought you up here."

She now pushed the button to lower her bed and went to sleep.

Pamela was wondering where John Ross was. When he walked in, it was with the usual offering of flowers. Her hospital room now had six small bouquets in assorted window sills. And no one but Christopher knew they were back.

But the bouquet of flowers did nothing to minimize her irritation. They had been back three weeks now. Pamela was trying as hard as she could to work the internet to get things ready for the babies. But John Ross was absent and uncooperative. She knew it wasn't the company. He'd decided not to go back yet. He'd said he wanted to get them settled before he went back into that toxic environment.

Then why was he being of so little help?

"John Ross? Do you remember Mama Joy's advice to us when we left?"

"Yeah, sure."

"That you should focus on the babies and I should focus on you."

"And if we did that we wouldn't get lost here in Dallas, the frying pan of hell."

"That's right, darling."

"So why are you neglecting me?"

"I…" he looked down and to the side, anywhere but in her eyes. "I'm sorry darling, I'll try to do better."

"Look at me, John Ross."

He looked at her, so seriously.

"Why am I the only one here trying to get things done for the babies? Find a house?"

"Pammie, I thought you were working with the realtor lady I got you."

"I can't find a house from a hospital bed. I need you with me on this."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just tell me the truth. Why are you so far away? What are you doing out there? You come in here so tired every day, you spend half your time sleeping in my chair." She now gasped, as if it had just occurred to her to ask. "Where do you sleep?"

"Nowhere. In the car. In the waiting room."

"What do you mean? We've been here for weeks. Why haven't you got yourself a hotel room? Are we…are we short on money?"

"No. I just don't want to be in a hotel." He seemed to be stalling. "Without you."

"Baby, come here." She raised her covers in an inviting way.

"Are you sure it's okay? I don't want to hurt the babies."

"Well, take your boots off then," she smiled.

As John Ross got into bed with her and fell asleep almost immediately Pamela reflected on his behavior.

He was hiding something from her. Either something had happened that he felt he couldn't share with her or he had fallen off the wagon.

But no, it couldn't be that. If John Ross had slept with somebody he'd be feeling much worse. He'd be hating on himself.

She'd taken her eyes off him for just a little while now, because she was busy with the babies. But John Ross was not the kind of man who could be neglected. He needed reassurance that he was needed all the time. He needed a woman who fully depended on his protection, on his care, on his fighting for her.

She drifted off to sleep with the thought that tomorrow she would figure this out. For now, he was safe in her bed.

John Ross woke up around midnight and looked at his watch. Carefully, he slid out of his wife's hospital bed, grabbed his boots and left.

Once in his car, he checked a GPS location and followed it's instructions. When he arrived at the GPS location he parked quietly and sat looking at the house. The only lights on were in the back, in the den. He had spent several evenings here already, staking out the place, to see if there was any suspicious activity. Nothing ever happened. Only that light in the back, late at night.

He left the car now, closing the door with the utmost care and yet a dog in the neighborhood still barked, setting off a chain reaction. He waited for it to die down before moving carefully towards the house.

When he reached the window of the den he saw him. Sitting in the desk chair, a drink in his hand, looking at the screen. John Ross couldn't see the screen, but Dr. Macnamara was staring at it intently. The sounds his ears could pick up were faint, they could have been those of any porn flick. But John Ross's blood froze. What if he were watching his wife on those videos? He had to know. Somehow, he had to get in there and find out.

He pressed his face with both hands, tried to regulate his breathing, to calm the fury that was threatening to unleash a lawless monster within him. He felt the need to kill. It was so primal he felt he was burning up alive. He fell away to the ground and just lay there. He didn't know for how long. When he came back to himself he saw the lights were already out. He slinked back to his car and took himself out of the neighborhood. Morning came and he still didn't know what he was going to do, what his next step would be. So he went back to the hospital.

He walked in on Pamela having her breakfast. She smiled and said, "Baby, where'd you go? You look…awful."

"Sorry, I'll shave in a minute."

"Close the door, would you? Lock it. I don't want any interruptions."

"O-kay." He raised his eyebrows but then obeyed orders.

"Here, have a bite of my omelet."

"I don't want to steel my children's food," he said. "I'll get something later, in the cafeteria."

"Eat," she commanded.

She had decided that attack mode would be the most effective. "John Ross, are you cheating on me again?"

He choked on his food and nearly spit it out. He grabbed a napkin. "What? No! How can you even—"

"Where have you been all these nights? Where did you go last night? Tell me."

"I…I had something to do. But I swear it had nothing to do with—with what you said."

"Then tell me what you're doing. Tell me now. Right now."

"I…I was on a stakeout."

She didn't react. So he had to explain further. "Since neither Christopher nor Bum have been able to come up with anything to entrap the psycho doc with, I've been staking out the guy's house to see if I can come up with something."

"And why didn't you tell me."

"I didn't want you involved. I didn't want it to touch you and the babies."

"And you think having a distracted husband acting weird doesn't affect me?"

"I'm sorry, Baby."

"John Ross I started to imagine the worst of the worst. That you had gone back to the company and found horrible things, that the family had found out we were here. That Emma—"

"Shsh, baby. I'm not going to let anyone, not anyone hurt you or come between us. I swear—"

"But you have already let someone come between us. That doctor. John Ross, I'm willing to forget about him. We have much more important things to focus on right now. We almost lost our babies. We have to focus on getting them born, safely. Having a home for them when they come. All that is up in the air. And I have to get that settled. Every hormone in my body is telling me to get settled."

"Babe, we're not homeless. There's always Southfork."

"I'm not going back to Southfork! Not ever. That place is toxic for us."

"Okay, okay. Don't upset yourself." He remembered horrible panic attacks. She was right, he had to focus on what _she_ needed, not what he himself needed. He'd done it again. His selfishness knew no bounds.

"You're right Pammie. I've been selfish. I've been focusing on what I needed, to get this son of a bitch behind bars. Not on what you need. Which is calm, and security, and peace. I'm soo sorry, baby. I'll do better. I promise."

He took her in his arms and held her. It was like finding the compass needle. He knew his purpose, he had his north again.

For the next month he worked as hard as he could on finding and buying a house. Pamela said she wanted it to be as close as possible to flamingo house in layout and feel. She worked online and ordered furnishings and baby things and he executed all her directions and wishes. He kept his focus on pleasing her and she swamped him with things to do. It was almost enough. Only his nightmares gave evidence that his mind was deranged with an obsession.

Pamela knew a man like John Ross, restless and borderline hyperactive, had to be kept busy. When his mind began to chafe and flounder she encouraged him to pursue his trading again. But it wasn't enough. She knew it only occupied a portion of his gargantuan energies.

Pamela soon realized that he had been telling a fundamental truth when he'd said he needed Macnamara to be put behind bars. She didn't remember his sexual assault, and she hoped she never would. She could, in a sense, put it aside, in lieu of more important things. But she began to see John Ross never would. It was a debt unpaid, a grievance unavenged. It affected his very core, his manhood, his need to eviscerate any threat to her.

She called Suellen one day, to come and visit her for the first time.

"Hello? Who's this?" Suelen answered her phone.

"It's me. Are you alone?"

Suelen walked outside the Southfork kitchen, saying to Annie, "I'm sorry, I have to get this."

Outside she took a quick look around and said, "Pamela! How wonderful to talk to you. How are you darling?" Now she whispered, "How are my grand babies? How much longer do I have to keep this a secret? Surely the danger must be over by now, I'm sure you're three months along already. I want to shout this from the rooftops. I'm going to be a grandmother! "

"Suelen, wait."

"Yes darling. I'm sorry, what can I do for you? It's just that it's been so long since we've talked. I'm very excited."

"I want you to come see me."

Suellen nearly jumped for joy now. "You want me to come and see you? Where darling? Pamela, I'll catch the first plane out."

She ran back inside to get her purse and say a hurried goodbye to Annie. She failed to notice Emma coming to an abrupt halt and then hastily hiding in the shrubbery behind her.

She was never conscious of the car that followed her as she left the Southfork ranch.

Suellen entered Pamela's room, hugged her, and pulled up a chair. "Pamela, my dear, I'm in shock. What is this, what's happened."

"Well, it's a long story Suellen." Pam was sober. "First, have you seen your son?"

"No. Should I have? How long have you been back?"

"Almost two months."

Suellen was speechless for a moment. Then she frowned and said, "Darling, how far along are you?"

Pam lifted up the covers now and showed her belly, "Thirty two weeks."

"Oh my God! They're almost here."

Suellen had a lot to say, in fact, one could say she was almost babbling, her delight was obvious. She was, in fact, trying to cover up the fact that she wanted Pamela's forgiveness. Abruptly, she started crying, first of happiness but then of sorrow and regret. "Oh Pammie, if you knew, how bad I feel for what you went through. For my part in it. For not telling you what John Ross was up to. I'm so sorry."

"Shsh, Suellen. It doesn't matter now. None of that matters. Listen, dry your eyes, because I need you. I need your help. That's why I called you. I need to get a lawyer."

"Oh no, what has he done. What has John Ross done now?" She looked as if her heart could break. "I thought…, on the phone…he begged my forgiveness."

"John Ross is fine. This has nothing to do with him. Please, let me explain."

Suellen wiped her tears and blew her nose. Then she smiled and said, "I'm ready."

Pamela had serious misgivings now as to how much she should tell her. She seemed emotionally frail. Almost unstable.

"Your son is a good man. He's changed a lot. We're alright, Suellen. Our marriage is alright. Don't worry about that."

Suellen bit her lip and nodded her head.

"But he is in a bit of danger, and that's why I need your help. You see, I'm afraid he might commit…he might go after somebody. Somebody that hurt me. And I have to do something about it. Before he does."

Again, Suellen nodded, her big eyes full of understanding.

"So, if you can find me a criminal lawyer I can trust. One that deals with…rape."

Suellen didn't even flinch. "I have a very good one. I'll bring her here tomorrow. What time?"

"Call me beforehand, and I'll make sure he's out of here."

"Allright."

Like the folding of a dove's tail, their timing was perfect, because John Ross walked in at that precise moment.

He stopped in his tracks and said, "Mama."

Suellen gave nothing away, "Hello, son." She smiled from ear to ear as she got up to hug him.

He held her longer that he ever had in his life. And of the three people in that room, he was the most surprised.


	16. Season 2, Episode 2 - Invasions

John Ross and Pamela – S2 E2 – Invasions

"Hello? Anybody here?" Christopher yelled, as he entered the strange house. "Door's open. Hello?"

"Come in," John Ross's voice called from another extremity of the house, "I'm in the back."

John Ross now came down the hallway, a tool belt hanging from his jeans and t-shirt frame.

Christopher started laughing, "Ha ha. Ha. Look at you, Joe the plumber."

"Watch out. I might just swing this here hammer at you," he responded, with a smile.

Then he started complaining, "Pamela's got me working my tail off. That woman decided to be an interior decorator from a hospital bed. Don't matter that she can't be here. She's got the floor plan on her computer and she's got me decorating every wall. Look at the size of that mirror I've got to put up here in the foyer. That's why I called you man. I can't lift all this stuff by myself."

"Wow. Look at this place. Hey, you know what? It reminds me of you guys' place down in St. Kitts. I mean, the color's not the same, but it's got the same feel. It's homey." He took off his already loosened tie.

John Ross was busy grabbing two beers from the fridge but he said, "That was the idea. Man, I'm so happy to hear you say that, 'cause that's what she wanted and I wasn't sure I'd hit the nail on the head."

"I'd say you did. Thanks." Christopher took the beer and then rolled up his sleeves. "Well, put me to work."

They worked together, moving furniture and putting up pictures for a while. At one point John Ross caught Christopher looking at a picture of a pregnant Pamela that was framed and set on the dresser in the baby's room.

"Dejavu?" John Ross said, gently.

"A little," Christopher said.

"How come you haven't come by the hospital more? Pamela's asked about you a couple of times." There were things that couldn't be said out loud. Like, "Does it hurt to see her carrying my babies?"

Christopher took another swig. "Ah. Truth is John Ross, I'm also working my tail off. Trying to keep those wolves we got inside our company from taking it down the river. I know Trevino is up to no good, and he answers to somebody behind the scenes."

"Well, ain't that Cliff Barnes?" John Ross frowned.

"Eh. I'm not so sure," he shook his head. "At first, I thought, I'll keep my nose to the grindstone, work on the Methane stuff. And stay out of Trevino's way."

"And?"

"Now, I feel like there's some stuff going on, that doesn't make sense. Money movement that I don't understand. John Ross, I wish you were back with us. 'Cause I know, where there's a rat, you can smell it."

"Well, I'm almost done here," he indicated the house. "Maybe it's about time for me to go back to the company. I'll talk to Pamela, see what she thinks."

But the next morning she had him scheduled to receive yet another delivery at the house, so he took the opportunity to rework some flower beds he wanted to fill with annuals for Pamela's homecoming.

While he was digging them up the remembered Mama Joy's "redemption work." He started humming Bob Marley's song and it brought back the good times on the island. He remembered Godwin, Josiah and the other cousins, the killer volleyball games. The peace and laughter among the women. Pamela holding the babies. He got such a longing to see her he almost left for the hospital. But then he pulled out his phone and called her.

"Hey little darling, what you doing this morning?"

"Oh, I'm here with your Mama, conspiring."

"Really? You didn't tell me she was coming by again."

"Yeah."

"Well, I thought I might join you for lunch. How about that?"

There was a slight pause. "Did the delivery from Babyland come yet?" Pamela asked.

"No. But I can go there and pick it up later."

"Oh. It might not fit in the car, honey. Anyhow, I'm about to take a nap. Tell you what, why don't you bring me some dinner around five, so I don't have to eat hospital food tonight."

"Okay, you're the boss. I mean, the queen." He felt strangely lonely as he hung up. "Cheer up, you big baby."

Pamela got off the phone and gave her attention to the matters at hand. "How long did you say it would take to get this done?" she asked Barbara Marcel, Suellen's lawyer friend.

"Oh, just a couple of days. I can get the information from you here, the deposition from Dr. Emanuele, and my office will push it through. Do you mind if I record you now?"

"No. Go ahead, let's get this done."

"How about I go down to the cafeteria and get us some coffee," Suellen offered, helpfully. "Oh Pamela, I didn't mean you."

As she left the room and entered the hallway Suellen caught a movement at the end of the hallway. A blond haired woman had pivoted and walked away into the elevator. She couldn't be sure of what she had seen. She reminded her of Emma. But Emma could never be so shameless as to come here, she was sure of that.

A few days later John Ross and Pamela were in the middle of a game of chess, when the phone rang for Pamela.

"Hello?" She picked it up and listened intently for a few minutes.

The voice on the other end finished by saying. "Macnamara was remanded to the county jail. The hearing is in 48 hours. Don't you worry about anything, I'm ready, I've already talked to the prosecutor."

Pamela said, "Thank you," and hung up.

"Who was that?"

"I have some good news, John Ross."

"Yeah?"

Pamela took a breath and then said, "Doctor Macnamara's been arrested."

John Ross looked alert, like he did when he thought something was too good to be true. "Well, that _is_ good news, darling. How exactly did that come about? And who was that giving you the news?"

"That was Barbara Marcel, the lawyer I hired to file charges against him."

"You hired? Wait a minute, Barbara Marcel, that's my mom's best bud. You…and my mother have been working on this?"

"Yes."

He took a few steps then pivoted. It was hard for him to take in. She knew it would be.

He now headed for the door. "John Ross, don't go."

He looked at her, that smoky blue eyed look that told her he was hurt and angry all at the same time. "Baby, I need a minute to chew on this. I'll be back in…a couple hours."

"I'd rather you didn't. Say what you have to say. I can take that far better than worrying about what you're doing out there."

He shook his head, and laughed a little sarcastic laugh. "You see, that's just…peachy. You're worried about what I would be doing out there. You don't trust me, do you? Not as far as you can throw a stick. What, you think every time we have a fight I'm going to be out there, whoring?

"I did not say that! I didn't even imply that!"

"Why did you do this?! Behind my back? Haven't I been a good little boy? I've done everything on your list. My hands were aching to get a hold of that guy but I stayed away from him. Because you wanted me to. And then it turns out you went behind my back!..."

"Yes, I did. I did and I'm sorry. But I did it for you. You said you needed him to be behind bars. I began to see that it was true, that you wouldn't have any peace. So I did what had to be done. Baby, look at me. Don't take it like that. This was not me tricking you. I was trying to take care of things in the simplest way. Just an affidavit, that's all I did."

"Taking care of things. That's my job, remember? That's what Mama Joy said. For _me_ to take care of _you_. Not the other way around," he insisted, but she could see the steam was already running out on his anger.

"And you do, John Ross. I couldn't make it through this without your strength. Please, believe me."

She pushed the covers off, to get up from the bed and come for him. When he saw her making that effort he relented immediately. He walked forward, fell on his knees, put his head on her lap and started talking to the babies. "Your daddy is a stupid idiot. Ah…I'm sorry if I was a little loud and throwing a tantrum. Your mama just threw me a curve ball, but I shouldn't have acted like an ass. Just go back to sleep or whatever it is that you guys are doing in there."

Pamela started giggling and kissing his head. She didn't tell him about the impending hearing. She thought things would be better left alone. The lawyer would attend the hearing and maybe Suellen would keep her posted. It would be better if John Ross was nowhere near the courtroom. She didn't know, when she made this decision, that it wasn't the only thing she would hide from him.

The next morning, when John Ross was on his way to Global Energies to start work again, Pamela had a visitor.

Emma had been circling Pamela's room for days. She had failed to gain access due to the prolonged visits of John Ross and his mother. It was imperative for her to stay out of their way, otherwise they would surely have prevented her from seeing Pamela.

"Hello, Pamela," she said now, in her gentlest voice.

Pamela, looked up, and braced herself. She had expected this run-in sooner or later. "What do you want Emma?" She asked, in a neutral manner.

"I…I just want to talk to you," she answered, humbleness oozing from her pores.

"Talk," Pamela shrugged.

Emma tried an innocent tack. "Where've you been? I've missed you." She smiled.

"Are we really going to do this? Pretend we don't know there's…a…problem between us?"

Emma still had a half-smile. "I don't know, you tell me. I don't know what you know."

"Oh, I see. Well, I know that you and John Ross were lovers. While you pretended to be my friend."

"I _am_ your friend, Pamela. Thanks to my…very dysfunctional family, I haven't had many. It means a lot to me, the way you took me under your wing."

Pamela smiled. "Yeah, what a fool I was. You didn't need…any mentoring. You're a master manipulator, aren't you?"

Emma didn't deny it. "I've had to be. In a family like mine—"

"Enough Emma. You think you're the only one with a toxic family?"

"Look, I'm not making excuses. I'm just saying, it was what I did. Back then. I…I know I hurt you…and I wish that I hadn't."

Pamela just looked at her, fixedly.

"That's what I wanted to do. To say I'm sorry."

Pamela was carefully regulating her breathing. "Fine," she said. She wasn't going to expend one ounce of her precious energy on this. It was over. She squeezed the call button. Emma didn't move. When the nurse came in she said, "Can you help me get more comfortable? I need my rest."

Emma couldn't do anything except move backwards toward the door now. Pamela hoped she had disarmed her and she wouldn't be back. She had no room in her life for stray cats.

Suellen had woken up this morning with a foreboding. She really wanted to get through this day without John Ross finding out about the hearing. Then she prayed she could find a way to explain to him why she hadn't let him know about it. Yesterday he had called her and yelled at her for aiding and abetting his wife to go after a psychopath without a clear shred of proof. He told her chances were high the case would get thrown out of court because of it.

She was hoping he was wrong when the judge walked into the courtroom and the clerk said, "All rise."

When they were seated again the clerk read, "We are here in the matter of the State versus Dr. Stanley Macnamara, and the accusation is one count of aggravated assault with intent to commit bodily harm, and one count of rape."

The prosecutor, a thin little man by the name of Malone, now presented Pamela's lawyer, who explained why she was in court in lieu of the victim and presented a doctor's affidavit to that effect.

"And who is that lady accompanying you?" the judge asked, after hearing of Pamela's health issues.

"This is the victim's mother in law, your honor, Mrs. Suellen Ewing."

"Her mother in law? Then where is her husband?"

"Mrs. Pamela Ewing, as I mentioned, your honor, is in a very delicate state of health, and her husband…"

"I see. He's by her side. Very well," the judge jumped to his own conclusions. "I will now hear the case of the prosecution."

"Your honor, if it pleases the court, Mrs. Pamela Barnes Ewing, has courageously brought charges against the accused, specifying that while she was being treated for a mental breakdown, and under the care of the accused, he sexually assaulted her, using hypnosis to conceal his actions from her. This prolonged assault took place over a period of three months, and then was subsequently discovered by a Dr. Gina Emanuele, who denounced the accusations to the American Association of Psychiatry. Dr. Emanuele has also provided an affidavit to this effect, and will testify as to her findings in court."

When called upon, the lawyer of the accused spent a good three minutes expounding on the credentials of Dr. Macnamara. Then he took a moment to confer with the doctor and resumed his presentation, "If it please the court, your honor, this is a patient with extreme suicidal tendencies, which Dr. Macnamara was treating. She is very disturbed…and in the opinion of the doctor-"

The judge took exception, "Let me interrupt you right there, and state that the good doctor is not here in the capacity of an expert opinion. He is here in the capacity of the accused." The judge paused and took off his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief. Suellen swore she could have heard a pin drop.

The judge continued, "Furthermore, the doctor must understand that the charges in this case are extremely serious and I cannot rule on them without a full airing of the facts."

He struck the gavel and said, "I will hear the case of the State vs. Dr. Stanley Macnamara in trial.

Suellen wanted to jump up for joy. The first hurdle was cleared. But the judge's demeanor did not allow for any levity.

"Mrs. Marcel, do you have an estimate of when Mrs. Ewing will be…delivered and could possibly attend a trial?"

"She has at least another month to go, your honor."

"Very well, I am setting a trial date for three months after that, to give her a reasonable time to be able to be present in court when the accused goes to trial. You must advise her that she has to be present at that time. These are serious charges, and a serious trial cannot be conducted without her testimony."

"Yes, your honor."

"Your honor, the Prosecution would ask that the Doctor be held without bail until that date."

"On the contrary, I will release the defendant on the bail of -, and he is advised…

Suellen thought she would faint. Everything the judge was saying receded and all she could think was, "Oh no, this is bad. This is really bad. This is worse that setting free a rabid dog." Now he knew where Pamela was, and he was going to go free.

As they walked out of the courtroom Mrs. Marcel was speaking to her in a low voice. "This is awful. I never expected this. Tell Pamela I will ask for an order of protection immediately, from the night judge, so that he can't come near her. Hopefully, we'll have that by tomorrow. The only problem with protection orders is that the victim practically has to serve the perpetrator herself. The police won't know about it. What's the matter?"

"John Ross, he's not picking up. Where can he be?"

"Why don't you call Pamela?"

"I…I can't. She can't be upset by this. I…I have to tell her in person. I have to get over there." Suellen tried to get John Ross again. Then she tried Global Energies but was told he was out.

John Ross had left work with the express purpose of breaking and entering Dr. Macnamara's house. He was fed up with caution; he was a man drooling with desperation. He was going to get in there and tear that house apart until he found the evidence he was looking for.

His phone rang right as he was able to get the den door open, and seeing it was his mother on the other end, he immediately flipped off the sound. He was single minded in his focus.

Pamela had been calm all day. On the surface, that is. By sheer willpower she was measuring her respiration, focusing on her yoga breathing.

But she was waiting for a call from Suellen that would tell her the case had been remanded for trial. There could be no other outcome. She breathed.

"Hello, Pamela," a very familiar voice saluted her. "No. Don't upset yourself. I understand you are in a delicate state." Dr. Macnamara was holding up one hand in a conciliatory gesture. "You don't, I know, want to do anything to hurt our babies. I understand. No, it's all right. Everything is alright now. You'll see, Pamela."

"Stay away from me." Pamela said, putting her arms around her stomach in a protective way.

"Pamela. Oh, Pamela." He took another step and shook his head with a smile. His face was as beautiful as she remembered, his eyes compassionate. She felt a great surge of fear.

With confused breathing, panic set in. "I mean it. Don't come any closer, you son of a bitch, depraved, disgusting, filthy, oh…uhm…aaow li..lizard." She now clutched her lower abdomen in pain.


	17. Season 2, Episode 3 - Birth

John Ross and Pamela – S2 E3 – Birth

Suelen was stuck in traffic and still frantically trying to get John Ross on the phone. Finally, it occurred to her to dial Christopher.

"Hello, Suelen, what can I do for you?"

"I need John Ross. It's an emergency."

"What's the matter? I don't think he's here."

"We had a hearing today for that doctor, and the judge let him go on bail. I'm worried about Pamela because he now knows where she is. Hello?"

Christopher was running to the elevator, "Hold it! Hold the door."

He told Suelen, "I'm on it. I'm on my way to the hospital."

"Thank God!"

Christopher sped out of the garage like a maniac. His adrenaline was thru the roof. All the feelings he had about Pamela and his own babies resurfaced. If somebody was out to harm her again he didn't know what he was capable of. It was an unknown quantity in his mind. But it made him crazy.

He drove into the hospital parking lot like a terrorist (or an expectant father) and took the stairs up to the fourth floor because the elevator didn't come after he pushed the button umpteen times. As he came out of the stairwell and ran to Pamela's room he prayed, "Oh Lord, let her be alright. I promise, I'll get my feelings under control…"

And then he saw her. Her face was contorted with pain and she was yelling, "Get out!" to a tall dude in a suit. He tackled him straight into the wall. They were rolling on the floor and he punched the man in the face.

"What's going on in here," the nurse, who had apparently heard the crash and come to investigate, asked.

"Get security," Christopher yelled, "I want this man arrested. He has no business here and I don't know what he did to her. Help her!"

"There's been a misunderstanding." Macnamara said, "I'm a doctor."

"You're a rapist!" Pamela yelled. "Oh my God, make it stop," she clutched her belly again, gasping.

Christopher dragged Macnamara out of the room and yelled at the personnel at the nurse's station. "Get the police. I want it on record that this man came to harass and intimidate Mrs. Ewing! What the hell is wrong with your security!"

At that point Suelen came running down the hall from the elevator, "What's happened? You! You shameless son of a bitch. Disgusting excuse for a doctor." she yelled, and went into Pamela's room now. "Pamela? Oh my God!"

Pamela was busy having a near asthmatic attack, her panic was so deep. The nurse was talking over her wheezing, "Mrs. Ewing, please, let me put the oxygen mask on. Mrs. Ewing, you'll be able to breathe better. Please, you must calm yourself."

Suelen took Pamela's hand now and squeezed it. "Pamela, listen to me. No one is going to hurt you. He's going right back to jail. I swear."

Pamela had taken a few breaths now with the oxygen mask on and removed it against the nurse's protests to say, "Contractions."

"Well, don't just look at her!" Suelen barked at the nurses. "Get the doctor in here."

"Darling, just focus on the babies, there you go, breathe easy now. What is it?"

"John Ross."

"He…he'll be here soon."

"No! Don't…don't let—" she was pointing towards the nurse's station.

"Alright, alright. I'll take care of it. You don't worry about it."

The doctor walked in at that point and Suelen was gently pushed out of the room. She took the opportunity to text John Ross, "Pamela needs you. Please come to hospital ASAP." There, that was forceful but hopefully not alarming.

She saw now that Christopher was arguing with the hospital security. Apparently, Macnamara had convinced them of his having a right to be in the hospital, that his visit to Pamela was perfectly proper and innocent, given that she was a former patient of his and that he had stopped by to say hi. It was all a misunderstanding.

"Excuse me," Suelen addressed the clearly befuddled security guards. "Gentlemen, this man was just in court today, in a hearing with judge Arlen Vickers, who has ordered him to stand trial for the assault and rape of Mrs. Ewing. There is an order of protection against him coming anywhere near her, and that is what he just did. It is your duty to hand him over to the police, since he is violating that order and the conditions of his bail. Our family would appreciate your seeing to that. We do not want to have to sue your hospital for dereliction of duty and endangerment of a patient."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, and I would greatly appreciate your removing him from the vicinity of the victim."

"Yes, Ma'am. Doctor, come to the security office. The police are already on their way."

When they had moved thru the double doors Christopher asked. "Wow, Suelen, That was impressive. How…how much of that was actually true?"

"I'll call Barbara to see how that order of protection is coming along and have her deal with the police. We've got to get him behind bars again, otherwise John Ross might kill him."

"How is Pamela doing," Christopher kept sending worried looks at her door.

"She may be in labor," Suelen sighed. "Please find John Ross."

As she went off to make her phone calls Christopher looked thru the glass of Pamela's room. She had her eyes closed, she was deathly pale and still. The doctor and nurses had her hooked up to several portable monitors now.

"Hang in there, honey," he whispered.

When the doctor came out a while later Suelen asked, "How is she, doctor?"

"If she continues to dilate at this rate, those babies are coming tonight. There is no turning back, at this point. And her blood pressure is high, which I really don't like."

"But the babies would be early, wouldn't they?"

"Yes, but there's minimal risk. They can make it fine. The trouble here is the delivery itself. For the mother. Excuse me, where is her husband?"

"We've been trying to reach him," Suelen explained.

"Well, I need him. Keeping her pressure down during the delivery is critical. I need him to scrub up with me."

John Ross had been thru everything in that den and found nothing. Either the doctor had his videos on the computer, which he could not access due to password protection, or he had it out on the web somewhere. There were no suspicious DVD's or jump drives laying around. He was thinking of how to get a hacker in here with him. But that would be hard, he'd have to be a criminal to accept a gig like that. The other option was to "borrow" Macnamara's computer and copy the hard drive and then have it searched by an expert.

He felt a vibration in his pocket and took out his cell phone. Before he even answered he saw the flash of his last text message. It said, PAMELA' S IN LABOR. GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE.

In less than ten seconds he had cleared out and was in the car. When he got to the fourth floor and saw both his mother and Christopher outside Pamela's room he slowed his step, steeling himself.

"She's been waiting for you," Suelen said.

What was that look on her face? Guilt?

He went in straightaway and saw the still, marble statue. Focused inward. Just like the last time she was in crisis. He remembered that night.

He kissed her on the forehead and said, "You're my heart, my soul and my life. I believe you can do anything, Pamela Barnes. You're a woman of steel."

"I'm afraid," she said. "He…he was here. He thinks these babies are his." She was done hiding things from him. Now is when she needed his courage.

John Ross knew this was not the moment to have a heart attack, even though he wanted to. Quickly, his mind made the calculations. Suelen's guilty look. Macnamara had found out she was here and had come. "Did he touch you?" he asked.

"No, Christopher got here in time."

But he had talked to her. That had brought this on. All her determination to stay calm was crushed. "So. Do you want him inside your mind?"

She shook her head, her baby blues focused on his.

"Then don't let him," he said.

"Hey, you ready to meet these boys? I'll lay a hundred dollar bill on the odds of them both having blue eyes."

He got a smile out of her. She kept a grip of his finger, as if she didn't have strength for more. He took out his cell and showed her pictures of the nursery, the house, the garden. Then he said, "Tomorrow, or the next day at the latest, is when you get to break out of prison. So, you've got something to look forward to."

When the doctor came in for another exam John Ross got a few minutes to confer with Christopher and Suelen. "Look," he said, "I promise I won't fly off the handle right now. Just tell me straight, everything that's happened."

They left nothing out. "Thanks, Christopher. I should have been here. I'm sorry mom, that I didn't answer your calls."

"Where were you? You can never shut off your phone!"

"Well, if you must know, I was taking advantage of the fact the doctor was behind bars to search for evidence at his house. Which I wouldn't have been doing if I'd known there was a hearing today and he might have been set loose. No, I know. I promised I wouldn't get mad. But we're going to have to talk this out later, Mama."

"Alright."

"Mr. Ewing," the doctor came out, "It's a go, she's ten centimeters dilated and her blood pressure has come down since you got here. I need you to scrub up, so come with me."

"What about Pamela?"

"She'll be there, in the delivery room. C'mon, we want to do this while conditions are good."

That was only at the beginning that conditions were good. From there on out they either fluctuated or went from bad to worse.

The fetal monitor around her belly gave them a scare several times. The blood pressure monitor spiked.

John Ross climbed on the bed behind Pamela and held her up, because she was so limp. Contrary to the custom of most women of expressing their pain, she was almost silent, breathing shallow and keeping her eyes closed half the time.

At the end of forty-five minutes of steady pushing, when she finally pushed out the first baby, John Ross was so relieved for her he cried. He quickly forgot about the first baby, in the effort to get the second one out.

"Can't do it again." Pamela said, and it seemed her life force was literally waning.

"Your body's already doing it for you. The head is engaged." The doctor said.

"Baby, you're doing so good," he kissed her hair, her temples, "You're so strong, you're my hero."

A very long eight minutes later, the second baby slid out, and Pamela said, "P…Put me down. See…them."

John Ross climbed off the table and his knee almost gave out, from having been in that position for so long.

The nurse handed him the first baby and he tried to put it in Pamela's arms, but her arms wouldn't hold it, they had no strength.

"This…Ross…Junior. " Her voice left off as if she'd lost interest.

The nurse brought the other one and held it next to Ross Jr. "This…John…Robert. My…beautiful…boys."

"I like those names, darling. Pamela?" John Ross called.

"Her pressure's up again!" someone yelled. Quickly, the nurses whisked the babies away.

"Pamela, stay with me." He had her by the shoulders and kissed her lips.

"You'll be…great daddy," She whispered now. John Ross felt a cold dread invade his heart.

The doctor said, "O-okay, that's the placenta. Okay, it's intact. That's good. But the uterus has caved in. We're going to have to have your permission Mr. Ewing, to perform a hysterectomy, otherwise she's going to bleed out."

"Alright, alright. Do it!"

In a few minutes the anesthesiologist said, "Her pulse is falling."

"I need time," the surgeon said, his hands flying. There were orders to the crew. Preparation of the electric shock paddles.

John Ross reacted with force now. "Baby, don't do this to me. I'm nothing without you here. We need you, darling." He kissed her hair, her face.

"Keep talking to her," the OB/GYN was by his side now.

"Bring me those babies." He said to the nurses. "Right now. Put them here. Pamela, look at them. Pamela!.God damn it, woman. You look at your boys!"

He reached over and pulled the blanket off the legs of Ross Jr. who started to fuss at the cold, "There you go, cry for your mother." Soon the other baby started to cry also.

"Listen to them Pammie, they're calling you. They need their mother. I swear, if you leave us, I'll…I'll give them away! You hear me?"

The babies were now screaming in such a frenzy nobody could stand it without wanting to console them. But their mother wouldn't open her eyes.

In his anger and fear John Ross was yelling over the sound of the babies and the crew was visibly affected. Some of the nurses had tears running down their faces.

"Pamela! This doesn't work without you. You hear me, bitch! Don't you leave me here. I WILL NOT keep them. Pamela Barnes Ewing! They need YOU!"


	18. Season 2, Episode 4 - Life Force

John Ross and Pamela – Season 2, Episode 4 – Life Force

It can happen, though not every day, that one person's life force is so strong as to literally keep another person in this world. When that silver ribbon that connects the soul and the body threatens to break, leaving the soul to float away like a gas balloon, another can entangle itself with it and reel it back in.

Such was the action of John Ross Ewing upon the soul of his wife. His intention was pure, inasmuch as he bargained for her life with his own, and intended to make a trade.

Another view is that science triumphed over medical trauma, and that the surgeon's actions on that day staunched the ebb of Pamela Barnes' blood and thus, of her life.

But the entire operating room crew witnessed the moment when, from oblivion, Mrs. Ewing opened her eyes and came back to this life. And most believed, that it was thru the desperate, forceful and impassioned threats of her husband. No one recalled, later, the substance of his threats or the crudeness of his words. They only remembered the imprint of that disturbing, volcanic love.

In due course, Mr. and Mrs. Ewing took home their two boys, named by their mother in that fateful moment, and started their family life. None disputed that they had earned it.

"I'm up." John Ross rolled out of bed without hesitation, as if he had not been asleep. The sound of the baby coming over the monitor was distinctive to his ears. He knew it was Ross Junior. He was awake and yet he wasn't crying. John Ross got to him and whisked him out of his crib so he wouldn't wake up his brother. He took him to the master bedroom's bathroom and laid him on a towel, pulled off his clothes and diaper, rinsed off his butt in warm water, holding him face down over his arm. "There you go, you little monkey, you're all clean. Forget those stupid wipes. Warm water is what you want. It feels better, doesn't it?"

He talked to him the whole time he was drying him and putting on his diaper and clean jamies. The baby responded by kicking his feet with lust and energy and making gurgling sounds, his eyes riveted on his father. "Who's a big boy, huh? Who's a big boy?" John Ross relished this moment, and often ended up laughing, because he thought that Ross Jr. would actually be talking to him a mile a minute if he could. Hell, he might even be cracking jokes.

"John Ross." He heard Pamela's drowsy voice calling from the bedroom.

"Yeah, darling, we're coming," he answered. But then he delayed a little longer, using his palms as a wall for Ross's strong legs to push off of. "That's it! That's it. You're a strong little guy aren't you?"

"John Ross. Don't wake him up so much, he won't go back to sleep." Pamela complained, though she loved the bonding between father and son.

John Ross whisked the baby up this time, and brought him to his mother to nurse.

"Oh baby, how's my little guy, huh?" she talked to him in soothing terms of endearment while he latched on with gusto.

John Ross couldn't help laughing at him. "This guy's smart. He knows that if he doesn't wake up his brother, he'll get fed first, there'll be more for him. That's strategic thinking. That's real smart right there."

As if Ross Jr. agreed with him, he stopped what he was doing for a second, and looked in the direction of his father's voice.

John Ross let out a laugh, "You see that? You see that? It's like he's letting me know he understood me. He's a cunning little sun of a gun."

"Don't distract him, John Ross," Pamela laughed. "Shsh. Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Ross, carry on." It was okay for his father to talk a mile a minute, but if she took her attention off of him to talk to someone else, he immediately reminded her to focus back on him. After all, she was his.

By and by, when John Ross was almost catching some shut eye again, a startling sound came over the monitor, of a baby's cry. "Oh, oh. I'm up."

He got to the nursery in a flash. "I'm here little man, don't take on so much. We're gonna feed you." He also talked to him while he changed his diaper, this time at the changing table.

But nothing seemed to soothe John Robert. He was angry from the moment he became conscious. "Hey, hey, I'm working as fast as I can, buster. I'm gonna take you to your mama. I promise. Trust me. We're going, now."

Pamela rolled over in the bed and took him, while a groggy Ross Jr. was now whisked away and put back in his crib.

Meanwhile, John Robert quieted immediately he was in his mother's arms and being soothed by her.

Back in bed, watching his son nurse, John Ross now spoke in whispers, "Hey, this little guy's got some will power. He knows what he wants and he won't stop till he gets it. And you better not get in his way. He'll let you know what he thinks of you."

"Don't take it personal," Pamela whispered back.

"I don't. I understand him. I think he's like me."

She laughed.

From watching the baby nurse and enjoying that, he suddenly fell into staring at her.

"What?" she asked.

"You're the most beautiful woman on this earth," he said.

She scoffed, "It's the middle of the night. I'm nursing a baby, all disheveled and you think I'm beautiful. Baby, now I know you've gone stark raving mad."

"Mad about you," he whispered, turning on his stomach and threatening to fall back to sleep. "Wake me up when he's done, I'll take him back."

But she didn't. She cuddled John Robert up into a bundle and walked back to the nursery with him still attached to her breast. Contrary to his brother, if he woke up he would be too angry to go back to sleep. So she sat in the rocker and finished nursing until he could be tricked back into his crib.

When she got back into bed she wanted to throw her arms around John Ross. A fierce surge of love assailed her. But she snuggled up to John Ross without touching him. She knew her husband, or rather, remembered. One touch would ignite a flame within him that would be hard to put out. He needed his sleep, and she needed hers to get through the demands of her day with twins. It was a lucky thing Suelen was coming by in the morning to lend her a hand.

"Suelen are you sure you can afford the time out of the office?" She asked, as she let her in the door.

"I don't care. These are my grand babies and I'm going to enjoy them while they're growing up."

"Well here, enjoy him." She handed her a child. "I think he needs a change."

"Oh my, yes he does. He smells…like heaven," she laughed. "Helooo, J.R! Is R.J. still sleeping?"

"Ladies." John Ross tried to get by them in his hurry to get out the door.

"Wait! Where's my kiss?" Pamela yelled after him.

He came back and kissed her and was leaving again when Suellen said, jokingly, "And how about me?"

He came back again and gave her a silent kiss on the cheek.

When Pamela closed the door behind him Suelen said, "He's still mad at me isn't he?"

Over tea later, she brought it up again. "Imagine how much worse his grudge would be if Dr. McNamara wasn't back behind bars."

"He's probably mad at me too. But he won't ever show it," Pamela said.

"At you? Never. He worships the ground you walk on." Suelen smiled. "And he's ashamed to let anyone know how vulnerable he feels," she added, under her breath.

Her son puzzled her. He was the first to admit he was the luckiest man in the world, that he had everything. At times he seemed blissfully happy. And then at others, when he was alone and didn't know he was being watched, he seemed dark and brooding. Her little boy had a hole in his soul.

Pamela had said to John Ross as he was pulling the car out of the driveway, "Don't forget about tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" He frowned.

"I told you. We're taking the babies back to the hospital to show them off to the staff."

"I forgot about that," John Ross answered.

If it was up to him he would never set foot in that hospital again. Desperation took hold of him every time he remembered... Man, he couldn't even go there. The pain was so deep, the fear so great. He had come so close to losing her that day. And the complete impossibility of an emotional underachiever like himself being left in this world to raise two children alone had seemed like a cruel cosmic threat. It was a scenario not to be contemplated. Not ever.

He pulled the car over when he realized he was so deep in the grips of the memory that his reaction time and his driving were compromised.

He pounded the steering wheel. "Uhh! Shake it off John Ross. You escaped, damn it! Enough!" He loosened his tie, rubbed his eyes. Why was this happening? She was the one who had suffered thru it all, not him.

He breathed deep. She was alright. The boys were alright. Why did he feel like someone had opened up a wide gash in his psyche that just wouldn't heal? If he didn't hate booze so much, for what it had done to his mother, he would be drinking every day now, just to keep this cloud off of him. God, how he longed for the company they'd kept in St. Kitts. For Mama Joy's no-nonsense cure. Maybe that's what he needed, to dig a hole in the ground, or to move some rocks. Or to hit a ball so hard it exploded. He'd get Christopher to go shoot some hoops with him, he told himself, as he pulled back into traffic. What he really wished though, is that he could be in Alaska, looking for oil in the frozen tundra. "Ha! That'll be the day."

The next afternoon, when they went to the hospital, there wasn't a trace of it left in his demeanor, he was social and charming to all the nurses, while introducing them to a smiling Ross Jr.

Pamela knew John Robert didn't mind being passed around when he wasn't hungry. He knew he could find her when he needed her. All he had to do was call out, in his imperial voice. She kept a close eye, as he charmed the nurses with his good looks. Pamela did notice a peculiar dynamic going on, though. There were whispers and covert glances directed at John Ross. In fact, the women seemed to be drooling.

"What is going on around here?" She asked the one nurse behind the station.

"What do you mean?"

"Why is my husband so popular around here?" Did he sleep with a whole bunch of y'all? Her jealousy was baring its teeth.

The nurse looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Oh. It's because of this video that's been circulating."

Pamela's face must have given away her shock because the nurse said, "Oh, it's nothing bad...it's just your birth tape."

"My what?"

"Well your husband didn't want it, but they had taped it already, they always do..." Her voice petered out in uncertainty.

"So apparently the technician thought it was something special and he showed it to another person on the staff, and then it got...posted."

The girl now broke out into full explanations. "I'm so sorry Mrs. Ewing but you two are a legend, your story's so beautiful and he's like a star on a Mexican soap opera or something."

Pamela now raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well, I want a copy of it, can you get me one? I barely remember the birth."

Every time she asked for details about the birth John Ross was very vague and refused to go there. Now she would get to see what it was he was so reluctant to tell her.

Even though she left the hospital with a copy of the video, it was several days before she had a quiet moment to see it. The babies were both asleep and instead of taking advantage of the time to nap, she put on the video.

She cried her heart out.

She was so profoundly affected that when her husband walked in the door that evening she looked at him with whole new eyes. She was pensive thru out dinner and while they put the babies down.

"Something on your mind, darling?" he asked, as they were getting ready for bed.

She sat still now, and said, "I got a copy of our birth video and watched it today."

"Oh," he turned his back to her, "Well, don't show it to me. Because I never want to see it." He now opened the French doors and stepped out onto the terrace.

She approached him, and when she touched his back he jerked, like someone who had been poked unexpectedly. "I'm never going to leave you," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He spoke, quietly, out into the night. "Yeah? Well, you almost did."

"I'm never going to leave you," she repeated. "You don't have to be afraid."

He inhaled, as if he'd been hit. Instead of soothing him, it seemed her words made him angry. "John Ross…"

"I can't do this right now." He tried to detach her hands from around his waist.

She just came in front of him now and kissed him, with all the force of her soul. If he wouldn't listen to her, she would show him.

By and by, he seemed to let go of everything and let the passion take over, like the volcano that it was.

When they lay together after, satiated, she tried again. "Baby, there's a bond between us, it can't be broken. Not in life. Not by death," she whispered.

But John Ross had already drifted off to sleep.


	19. Season 2, Episode 5 - Trevino

John Ross caught up to Christopher after the workday, in the underground garage of Ewing Energies. He looked around at the security cameras and the other cars before he spoke, "Christopher, Mama's having a barbecue tomorrow. It's just for family. I need you to tell Uncle Bobby to come. Ann can come too. But nobody else. Okay?'

"What's this about, John Ross?"

"It's about the stuff you told me to look into. I'll tell you more about it tomorrow."

"Alright. We'll be there."

"Yeah, you'll get a chance to see the babies. They're growing up fast, man."

"Yeah. I bet they are."

"Why don't you come by and see them more? You're their uncle, you know."

Christopher looked at him with those soulful blue eyes.

John Ross decided to grab the bull by the horns. "Does it…does it bother you that…they're here?" He didn't say, "mine."

"No, John Ross. No." Christopher seemed offended. "How could you think that?"

"Well, like I said, 'cause you never come over. I want them to be close to you, in fact Pamela and I talked about it, we wanted you to be their godfather. But maybe that's too much to ask, too much responsibility."

"No. It's not. Even if you didn't ask me, I'd always look out for them. I'm always going to be there for them. The answer is yes, and I'm honored coz."

They were all hugs now and slaps on the back. "You alright?" John Ross asked.

"Yeah." Christopher was shaking his head, "Whew. I'm choked up. Life sure is funny, isn't it."

Suelen opened the door when she saw thru the glass who it was. "Bum! This is a pleasure. What are you doing here?"

"It's John Ross. I got a crew here," he pointed to the discrete black van outside. "John Ross asked me to sweep your house for bugs. Before the barbecue tomorrow? And if you don't mind, don't talk about this on the phone, okay?"

"Okay. He must have had his reasons. I'll wait till he explains."

When John Ross and Pamela arrived at the barbecue the next day it was as if they had brought the party.

"Oh my God," Ann bounced up to grab one of the babies right away.

John Ross handed John Robert off to Christopher, "There, get to know your uncle. He can change your diaper, too." He handed him the bag. "Mama, what you got cooking?"

"Me?" She gave him a kiss. "Your uncle Bobby's the one manning the grill. He insisted."

"Well, ain't he a little old for that? I thought that would be my job."

"You take it up with him out there." She pushed him in the direction of the back yard.

Pamela drifted over to where Christopher was awkwardly trying to change J.R.'s diaper on the living room floor. "Need some help with that?"

"No—no. I want to do it. Let me. I've gotta practice. After all, I'm going to be his godfather."

"Oh yes. John Ross said he talked to you. Thank you for agreeing."

"But, he…he had talked to you first, right?"

"Of course. Christopher, you know I trust you more that anyone in the world. And remember, even when we were fighting I knew I wanted you to be…the father to my babies. This is our second chance…to…work together."

He didn't look up, but his hands stopped moving for a split second. "Christopher, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things difficult, to bring up old wounds."

"No, it's okay. I…I'm learning to live with the loss. It helped a lot, what you said to me in Saint Kitts. I have them tucked here, in a little corner of my heart."

"Me too. I haven't forgotten them either."

He finished putting on Ross Jr.'s diaper and picked up the baby. "Would you like to come with me to the little cemetery at Southfork sometime?"

"Alright, I…for obvious reasons, haven't gotten out there yet since I've been back."

Suelen came back in from outside. "C'mon y'all. Bobby and John Ross are declaring that the ribs are ready. Let's go outside. Or is it a bit hot for that. Inside or out?"

They all voted for the indoors and gathered around Suelen's spacious kitchen/living room, as John Ross and Bobby brought in the grilled corn and the ribs.

"Ann brought the baked beans, everybody," Suelen said, "I'm ashamed to say I sent for the cole slaw and potato salad from Smoke."

"And this barbecued beef brisket must of come from there too. Uh-um." Ann countered.

Bobby just had to brag, "Well, the ribs and sausage are all mine. No avant guarde cheff has touched them. This barbecue sauce recipe's been used on Southfork for one hundred years."

"You win Bobby. But I didn't know you were going to show up early and throw your own meat on the grill," Suelen laughed.

"Suelen, I'm lucky you had a grill. I don't think it's ever been touched!" Bobby said, as he piled his plate.

Everyone laughed as Suelen bowed her head, "I've been outed. It's man's work."

When they were sitting around the couches Ann laughed. "Pamela, can you eat and nurse at the same time?"

"You're right, I need two hands for this meal. But watch what happens if I stop nursing." She pulled the baby off for a second and he started to fuss. Everybody laughed.

She settled him back down, saying, "It's okay John Robert, Mama's mean. You finish your meal."

Christopher got up at that moment to go for seconds. He paused over the cole slaw and gripped the counter with both hands. He had caught himself staring at Pamela, thinking she was an angel, that motherhood was her natural calling, and that she was beautiful.

Sitting across from him, next to Pamela, had been John Ross, who had witnessed the raw love in his eyes.

"Don't feel bad." A voice said, behind him. "You feel what you feel."

Christopher looked at John Ross with horror. "And you still want me around you guys?"

"I feel for you cuz. But I can't stop living my life and neither can u."

"Does she know?" he asked, ashamed.

"Naw, I don't think she's got the slightest clue." He answered. "But you can tell her if you want."

"Hell, no." Christopher responded, "What good would that do?"

When they had had their fill of barbecue, and the babies were asleep in the baby pen, John Ross asked, "Mama, can we use the den to talk a little business?"

"Why can't we do it here? We're all comfortable."

John Ross tipped his head, "Well, it might get a little heated and the babies don't need to hear this."

"I want to hear it," Pamela said.

"I can stay and watch the babies," Ann offered.

Once in the den John Ross said, "I asked my Mama to have us all over and I had Bum sweep the house for bugs."

"Huh?" Bobby was frowning.

"It's because of something I've discovered in our company." He looked at his uncle Bobby, at his mother, he wasn't sure they could take this. And he really wished that Pamela wasn't even in the room. Her penchant for taking matters into her own hands could put her in danger again.

"A while back, Christopher asked me to come back to the company because he suspected there was something untoward going on."

"You told him and you didn't tell me?" Bobby was already getting riled up.

"It was just a…suspicion," Christopher defended.

"Everybody hold up till I'm done." John Ross said, "You might want to save your energy for what's coming."

He swallowed hard, "I've been working for the past month and a half with a forensic accountant, a real good one, but on the down low. And what she tells me is that we, that it looks like Global Energies has a massive, deep, concealed money laundering operation going on inside of it."

"My God!" Bobby said.

"Damn." Christopher flinched.

"How is this possible?" Suelen asked.

"Trevino," Pamela said.

"Exactly, darling. You hit the nail on the head. It started when he got control of the company (almost) and has been spreading it's tentacles into every department, but most particularly, the Alternative Energies division."

"Well, let's expose him. Let's kick him out," Bobby said.

"Wait. I haven't finished. At this point, we have not been able to trace exactly the point of origin of the money that's coming in to be laundered. But, the forensic accountant says it looks very similar to other operations she's seen, where the Mexican drug cartels infiltrate a company to launder money and get it into U.S. currency."

"Saints in heaven," Suellen put her hand on her chest. This time Bobby had nothing to say. He couldn't.

"What's to be done?" Christopher asked.

"Nothing." John Ross said. "We walk away. Cut our losses."

"What?" Suelen couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"Are you crazy? This is our family's patrimony." Bobby resisted.

"My technology is bound up in there. It's my patent!" Christopher said.

"Look!" John Ross now raised his voice. "I am not kidding. We can't let on that we know. They need us because we're the front for their activities. Right now they're a silent partner, but if we wake up the monster, or make him suspicious in any way, his claws will come out to squeeze us. And then, we'll be in bed with the enemy, with a violent drug cartel! Think about it. The blackmail and the threats will begin, to say the least."

"Can't we go to the FBI, or CIA or DEA or something?" Christopher asked.

His father now said, bitterly. "The FBI will come in alright, but they'll have us here for years, as their informants. And the cartel will just get their claws in deeper and deeper, and everybody we love will become a hostage."

Everyone was looking at him now, so he said, "That's what's happened to Harris Ryland's company. He's in bed with the FBI and the cartel. And his family are under threat."

"Does Emma know?" John Ross asked, under Pamela's eye.

"No. And it's a hell of a job keeping her under protection, without her cooperation."

"Well, don't you think you ought to tell her? For her own protection?" John Ross pushed.

"That's Harris' call, and everyone who knows something is in more danger than if they didn't. Anyway, I just broke a federal oath telling you guys this, so don't even think about telling anybody."

"Anyhow, what are we going to do about this?" Suelen asked.

"Mama, there's nothing we can do. We just gotta accept it. It's a total loss. We just gotta figure out how to disentangle ourselves quietly. You all might decide you want to stay in there and fight, but I for one, am not exposing my family, my wife and my kids, to the danger that might result. I'm cutting my losses and I'm getting out." He now looked at his wife, a silent plea for support in his eyes.

"I'm with you, John Ross." Pamela was proud of him. He had his priorities straight.

"I feel that I should stay and fight for my grandbabies inheritance," Suelen said.

"It's at times like these that I most miss J.R," Bobby said.

"Dad, I'm sorry to say this," Christopher said, "but we've got to look forward and not backwards. If we're going to fight, then we've got to have a darn good plan."

The following day John Ross went up the elevator with Nicholas Trevino. "Mr. Nick, where's your usual sidekick?" he said, trying a little too hard to be normal with the devil.

"Elena's not feeling well this morning."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear she's sick."

"Well, she's not sick, exactly," he said, "This sickness happens every morning."

"Really? I guess congratulations are in order." Poor Elena. If she only knew the kind of man she had gotten involved with. "You should take good care of her."

"What makes you think that I don't, Mr. Ewing?"

"Sometimes the company we keep isn't healthy," John Ross said, before he could stop himself.

Trevino laughed and waged his finger at John Ross, "You're an expert on that, I remember."

John Ross was fuming by the time he got into his office. First, because Trevino had almost thrown it in his face that he knew about Emma and the affair. Secondly, he was angry at himself because he had run his mouth and come close to letting Trevino know that he knew the bad company he was keeping. Hadn't JR taught him that the only way to deal with the enemy was to let him underestimate you and never let him know you were coming? Or going, as it were.

His next few days were spent falsifying geological testing information on two of the oil leases Ewing Energies had acquired in Alaska, thru his own efforts. These were the two he considered the most promising of his acquisitions. Next, he dumped them on the open market, where they were acquired by some obscure little enterprise by the name of DIG.

In a board meeting a week later he reported on the progress of the surveys being done in the oil leases in Alaska. "We've started to get in the geological surveys from these tracts, using ground penetrating sonar. These are borne by helicopters, because the terrain is so inaccessible. It's amazing technology. Anyhow, the most promising ones can be seen here on the map. Some, unfortunately turned out to be duds. I'm trying to systematically unload those, so they don't become a drain on Global Energies."

"What do you mean?" Trevino asked.

"On the open market."

"Who's going to buy worthless oil leases?"

"Look, I didn't say they were worthless, or didn't have something to be developed. But it's a case of cost versus benefit. Some deposits are too hard to get to, or they're too small. Ask Elena. She' s the expert on this. For us, it may not be worth it. But for some small start-up, for a guy whose only egg is in this basket, then he might buy it."

Trevino didn't appear satisfied with the answer. "Well, if you don't mind I will have Elena take a look at this."

"Suit yourself." John Ross shrugged. "We'll put a halt on dumping them, if you're not comfortable with it. Any questions about the leases that

actually showing some promise?"

Christopher had missed that board meeting. But Trevino got a report that evening about his activities that caused him to smile. He had met his cousin's wife at a location at which he parked his car and then entered hers. The fotos were clear. Unfortunately, once the car had entered the Southfork ranch the watcher had been unable to follow, but it was recorded that they had not approached the main house.

"Huh." Trevino had to smile. The wife was getting back at her husband it seemed. Good for Pamela. He just questioned her choice of partner. But maybe it made sense in some way. People always went back to their first loves. Look at himself and Elena. Some things were destined to be.

What Trevino's spies couldn't see, of course, was that Pamela's SUV took them to the little graveyard inside Southfork where Miss Ellie and J.R. were buried.

"Which little guy do I take?" Christopher asked.

"Shsh." Pamela put a finger to her lips. "They might stay asleep for a bit."

They looked behind them and laughed. "Not a chance!" Both boys were wide awake and looking straight at them. John Robert smiled quietly, while Ross Junior gurgled and kicked his feet.

"You guys are just a mass of gas aren't you? Go, team. Yaaay." Christopher talked to them.

They each unbuckled one baby and took him to the gravesite that read, "Kyle and Karina Barnes Ewing, beloved children of Pamela Barnes and Christopher Ewing."

Pamela spoke in a tremulous voice, "Look boys, meet your brother and sister."


	20. Season 2, Episode 6 - The Ordeal

John Ross and Pamela, Season 2, Episode 6 - The Ordeal

The Trial of Dr. Stanley Macnamara under Judge Arlen Vickers was a media circus. He'd refused to allow camera's in the courtroom and as a result, the courtroom had a body squeezed into every seat. Reporters, artists, every rag in Dallas was covering the story. It had everything, tragedy, smut, a villain and a rich beautiful princess.

The first witness for the prosecution was the husband himself, explaining that he had given his wife over to the care of Dr. Macnamara after she had tragically tried to take her own life.

"Mr. Ewing, do you know why your wife tried to commit suicide?" The defense cross examined.

"Yes." John Ross's eyes were a steely blue.

"Well, what was it?"

"It was because of me."

"And what had you done?"

"I cheated on her." John Ross was visibly ashamed.

A perceptible hum was heard in the room. "Were you present during her suicide attempt?"

"Yes."

"Was anybody else present."

"Yes."

"And who was that?"

The prosecution objected. "Your honor, we don't see any relevance to this line of questioning. After all it is not Mr. Ewing who is on trial here."

"Sustained," the judge said.

The second witness was a Dr. Gina Emanuele, native of New York City, but practicing in the Islands of St. Kitts and Nevis. Her testimony, long and gruesomely detailed, was an unimpeachable catalogue of the crime. The defense had no cross examination except to ask, "Dr., was Mrs. Ewing under hypnosis the entire time this was being aired?"

"She was."

"Did you discuss it with her afterwards?"

"Yes, extensively."

The prosecution cross-examined. "What were some of these discussions about?"

"Well, about the tests that had to be done, for STD's and pregnancy."

"How did the victim react?"

"She was traumatized, extremely so."

"Any reason in particular?"

"Yes, the pregnancy test was positive and further tests had to be done to determine paternity. At that point Mrs. Ewing became aware of the fact that she had suffered the loss of two children, twins, in a previous marriage. Something she had already come thru. So it is a stretch why the doctor had decided to box up this particular memory. In any case, when Mrs. Ewing received those memories on top of the knowledge that she had been raped and was now pregnant, the trauma was severe, and she had to be hospitalized."

There were so many "Oh's" and "Tsk, tsk's" at this point anyone watching would have said the verdict was a foregone conclusion. How could the defense produce any counter argument?"

At this point the judge called for a break in the proceedings until the following morning.

John Ross and Pamela had to wade thru a press of reporters on the way out of the courthouse. Mercifully, Bobby had a Southfork vehicle waiting for them and drove them home. He was going to pick up Ann, who had stayed with the babies.

As they pulled up the street they saw it; a large contingent of reporters cluttering the front lawn, on the driveway, and blocking the way to the front door.

John Ross and Pamela both had been absolutely quiet on the drive home. Now Pamela whimpered, "Oh my God."

John Rosses protective instincts were immediately aroused. He jumped out of the car and said, "All you all, OFF my property!"

Bobby came around quickly and said, "Take Pamela inside. Let me deal with this." He walked down the driveway saying, "Come with me if you want a statement."

The cameramen and photographers weren't stupid, they stayed to catch some footage of the woman being almost carried inside by her husband.

John Ross shut the door and all they could hear was John Robert in a full tantrum for his mother. Ross Junior, in a strange departure from his usual, was crying too.

"I'm so sorry," Ann said. "They just both woke up all at once."

"You don't have to apologize. I know how it is." Pamela said, kicking off her heels and taking John Robert off to the nursery. "John Ross, bring him. I'll see if I can nurse them both at the same time. If not we'll need a bottle."

"I'll be right there, darling. I think I can get him to let me change him."

"No!" Pamela stamped her foot. "I can't bear to hear him cry."

"Okay, okay. You're the mom."

When they came out of the room, forty five minutes later, they had their house to themselves.

"Poor Ann," Pamela said, "I didn't even get to thank her before she left."

"She knows, darling. Let me get you some food. You must be ravenous. Look at that. There's some chili in here. Ann thinks of everything."

"God bless that woman."

They didn't talk about the trial at all. They spent the evening on the thick rug on the floor with the babies.

After looking out the front window a few times John Ross said, "Tomorrow I think we should take the babies to Southfork. Ann can take care of them there. She'll have help and there'll be security. I never expected the press to move into my driveway."

He looked over at Pamela and saw that she was asleep on the rug. She had just passed out.

John Ross managed to get Ross Jr. into the crib without protest. He had just been nursed and was drowsy. He didn't know what he would do about John Robert. He mixed some formula and put it in a clean bottle. He sat in the rocker in the nursery and said, "Here, you like this. The milk comes out quicker."

He didn't allow himself to think about anything but holding his son. He was all his.

When he came back out she was curled up in a ball, a sleeping beauty. He scooped her up expertly, and put her in their bed.

Now he was alone. With his thoughts. No wonder Pamela was exhausted. He had watched her all day. Her back ramrod straight, her dignity unruffled. On the outside.

But on the inside he felt this could be tearing her to shreds. She wasn't talking. That was usually a prelude to something. He had once told her she had nine lives. That was when she had survived the explosion on the rig. But even if he had been telling the truth, someone must be keeping count. The attack by her "brother." The aneurism. The miscarriages. The suicide attempt. The beach. The near death during the birth. Surely, her nine lives were drying up. He couldn't think about it.

As for himself, he didn't want any mercy, or pity, or compassion. All this had been brought about thru his actions and he never forgot it. But it was a little bit hard to see the Ewing family name dragged thru the mud in such a public way. To confess his sins so they could be rubbed in the face of the person who had suffered them. He wanted to beg her forgiveness, but it was stuck with that perpetual lump in the back of his throat. Oh, Pammie. I didn't mean to hurt you. I wish I could take it back. He kissed her hand and then put it on her pillow.

John Ross came awake the next morning with a start. Pamela was gone. He rolled out of bed and found her in the nursery, nursing.

"These little guys let me sleep all night. Wasn't that sweet of them?"

"Yeah. Outstanding. Mr. Ross, have you had your breakfast? Oh, I see you have. You're kicking up a storm. Well why don't you come in the shower with me big guy. That's right." He leaned down to kiss Pamela and John Robert.

John Ross didn't let Pamela come outside until he'd loaded all the baby equipment and both babies in their car seats. When he brought her out the air was filled with the click-click sound of camera shutters.

The defense started the morning, as expected, calling on character witnesses for the defendant. The courtroom was bored.

But all ears perked up as the defense called John Ross Ewing back to the stand.

"What was the demeanor of Dr. Macnamara towards yourself?" the lawyer asked him.

"He was condescending, standoffish, obstructionistic." John Ross himself felt that was a mouthful of words. But he wanted to be precise.

"What obstructions did he put in your way?"

"He kept me away from the hospital for three months, saying that it was better if she didn't see me."

"Why would he say that?"

"Because she had tried to commit suicide because of me. Because I cheated on her." Why was he making him repeat himself?

"Who told the Doctor about your cheating on her?"

"I did. Every gruesome, hurtful detail."

"And it was after that that the Doctor asked you to stay away for a while. Did her forbid you to come?"

"No. But he put the fear of God in me."

"You didn't have the fear of God before this?"

Touché. Now he could see where the guy was going. "Don't twist my words. Of course I did. I felt awful about causing my wife, whom I love, to feel such despair that she would try to take her own life."

"So you resented the doctor for asking you to stay away. Did you stay away?

"Yes I did. I only—"

"Did you think then, at the time, that he was being unreasonable?"

"No. I—I just wanted her to get better. So I did what he said."

"Way to get the ball back in your court John Ross," Bobby whispered to Suelen.

"Your honor, the defense reserves the right to call the witness again, at a later time," the lawyer said.

"Witness is excused."

"At this time, your honor, the defense calls Miss Emma Ryland to the stand."

A clamor ensued and the judge struck his gavel, asking for order in the court. Pamela passed a note to the prosecutor.

The prosecutor spoke first, "Your honor, this witness's testimony is immaterial. She has no direct knowledge of the defendant or of the victim's relationship with the defendant."

"Counsel?" The judge inquired.

"This witnesses testimony goes to …character issues of the accuser, your honor."

"I will allow. But on very narrow grounds."

Emma made a big impression. She put on her most demure demeanor, as if she had been the party seduced.

"Miss Ryland, you have intimate knowledge of the event that led to Mrs. Ewing's ending in the hospital."

"Yes."

"Why do you have this knowledge?"

"Because I was there."

"In what capacity?"

"I was…John Ross and I were… we were having sex in the hotel and she bribed the house maid to let her in."

Pamela took one second to look at John Ross. His eyes were nearly shut. He seemed immersed in the horror of that moment. A moment she had no recollection of. She didn't know what was coming.

"Your honor, please," the prosecution pleaded.

"Counsel, I am cautioning you," the judge said.

"Miss Ryland, without embellishing any details of the…act…tell us what …ensued."

"She, Pamela, asked if she could join us."

Pamela was paralyzed. Oh my God!

The court was a-buzz.

"And did you?"

"Uh-hum." Emma nodded, eyes on the floor.

"And what happened…with regard to her alleged…what was the reason the paramedics were called in."

"She had taken some pills, before she came in."

"I see." The lawyer was done with Emma. The prosecution was left to salvage what they could of Pamela's character.

"Miss Ryland, were you known to the victim before this event took place?" he asked.

"Yes. We were best friends," Emma said, in all sincerity.

"Do you know what pills she had taken and how many?"

"No."

"So you can't say whether they were poisonous or recreational, is that correct?"

"Uh-hum."

"Can you speak up, Miss Ryland."

"Yes, that is correct."

"Your honor, we had previously, if you recall, entered into the record that the victim took a dose of 15,000mg of aceto salicylic acid, commonly known as aspirin, and which, to our knowledge has no recreational use. The intention to take her own life in the presence of the best friend and husband who had betrayed her are not in question."

At this point, Dr. Macnamara was quietly whispering to his lawyer and the result was that he said, "Your honor, if it please the court, we recall Dr. Gina Emanuele."

It was quickly done. "Dr. all that you have recounted of the incidents alleged, were these statements obtained under hypnosis?"

"Yes, they came out spontaneously under hypnosis."

"Has Mrs. Ewing recounted any of these events outside of the suggestive state?"

"No memories surfaced outside of hypnosis." Gina was clear.

"Does Mrs. Ewing, the conscious Mrs. Ewing, remember the alleged acts?"

"I cannot say to what extent Mrs. Ewing remembers the rapes."

"Well, does she or doesn't she?"

"The mind is complex, and so is memory."

"Isn't it true that she does NOT remember them?"

"Objection, your honor. Counsel is badgering the witness." The prosecutor said.

The defense reeled, "Your honor, with all due respect, what witness? If Mrs. Ewing doesn't remember the alleged offences against her, how can she be considered a witness? And if she's not a witness, then whatever others have heard her say is just that, hearsay."

A great hue and cry was raised among the court. The lawyer was already presenting closing arguments, it seemed. He had turned the whole case upside down.

Pamela felt herself being taken away by a drifting current. Her chance for justice, her future, they were drifting away. She saw a scenario where Dr. Macnamara would always be free, to stalk her, to come near her family, her children. A future where John Ross would be haunted and obsessed with getting revenge for the wrongs inflicted on her. A future with no peace.

"I'll do it," Pamela said.

"What? Mrs. Ewing, did you say something?" The lawyer fished, hoping the witness would destroy herself further.

Pamela rose, a sign of respect, and addressed the judge. "Your honor, if it please the court, I will submit to hypnosis here. Right now. So that I can remember and the court can hear it from my own lips."

The judge called the prosecution and defense up to confer with him. He also called Gina to opine on the safety of the procedure. But at the end of a heated hush-hush discussion Pamela, who had remained standing, raised her voice and said, "It's my life, it's my decision. I WANT to do this. I don't care about the risk to my sanity."

The prosecution only agreed on the condition that the testimony be taken as is, and that counsel would not be allowed to cross-examine the witness during the process of memory re-integration.

When Gina approached the stand she tried to convey to Pamela some confidence and assurance by her demeanor. After inducing the hypnotic state she went thru a few preliminaries and then asked, "Pamela, do you remember having sex with Dr. Macnamara?"

"Call me Pammie. Yes, I remember." She answered, in a sweet, willing voice.

"What did Dr. Macnamara say to you to convince you to do this?"

"He said, don't be afraid. This will go easier if you let yourself go. It's part of your treatment."

"He said it's part of your treatment," Gina repeated, for the benefit of the court. "How did you feel about that?"

"I believed him. It felt icky, but…I believed him. He said I would never get out of there if I didn't do it."

"And what happened then, Pammie?"

"I…I let him make love to me."

"Was it always in his office?"

"Yes."

"Was it every day?"

"No."

"How often did it happen?"

"I don't know."

"Was it more than once?"

"Yes."

"Was it three times?"

"More. Many, many times."

"When you left the hospital, Pamela. Did you continue to go back for appointments with the doctor?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

"Twice a week."

"Did he force you to have sex with him then?"

"Yes."

"Why did you do it, Pammie?"

"He said if I didn't he would have me committed again."

By this time every one of the jurors and every one in the court was ready to throw up. Not a word, not even a cough was heard. John Ross had a look of horror on his face, and the tears were welling up. Christopher had lowered his eyes, and only brought them up from time to time. Suelen had her arm in John Ross's and he was squeezing her hand so tight she thought he would break it. Until it went slack suddenly and she looked at him and saw a glint of sheer dementia in his eyes.

Gina now said, "I have just a little more Pamela that I want to ask you."

"I am going to wake you up now. I want you to try and stay very calm, remember you are strong, you've worked very hard for your sanity, for your peace of mind. Now, I want you to remember these things we've discussed when you wake up."

As Gina counted her back to a conscious state Pamela's shoulders sagged and her head slumped forward. When Gina called her again she lifted her head, looked long at the silent room with a straight face and said, in a tone lower than her normal voice, "What you all staring at? Haven't you ever seen an abused woman?"

At that precise moment, when a gasp released everyone's held breath, a silent, but very agile John Ross vaulted the barrier in front of him and bodily lifted the taller defendant out of his seat and started strangling him.

A volley of cries and screams broke out, the judge hit his gavel furiously, the guards broke it up and a recess was called in the trial. But the emotions of that aggression, gruesome as they were, were a release to the horrific tension of the trial.

This time there were two victims that had to be escorted out through the press of reporters and photographers on the courthouse steps. Pamela was flanked by her mother and Christopher and whisked into a waiting car. John Ross, when he was released by the guards, was escorted by his mother and his uncle, nearly incoherent, but still on his feet. Both parties headed for the protection of Southfork, to heal their wounds.

Pamela rejected all her mother's fussing, gruffly saying, "My boobs are hurting I'm so full. I want the boys." In her bedroom, with the two babies on the bed, she said to Ann. "Please, leave me alone with them. Don't let ANYONE in here. Not even John Ross. You'all can take care of him. I got enough on my hands with these two. Don't…let…anyone…in."

She was stripping her court clothes as she said this, and putting on comfort clothing. Ann nodded her head at her gruff instructions; it was a side of Pamela she hadn't seen before. She knew better than to open her mouth. This woman needed to ground herself, and her children were her cure.

When John Ross arrived at Southfork he asked one question, "Where is she?"

"John Ross," Ann said, "she…she asked not to be disturbed…by anyone…She's nursing the babies, and taking a nap." She felt sorry to deliver the news. He was obviously in need of some comfort too. "Let me get you something, dear."

John Ross paused, pensive. Then he wheeled around and headed for the door again."

"John Ross!" his uncle called. Then he called to his son, "Christopher, go with him. That boy's liable to do himself harm."

Christopher took off saying, "I'm on it."

By the time he got down to the stables though, John Ross had already saddled Samson and taken off.


	21. Season 2, Episode 7 - Sentence

Season 2, Episode 7 – Sentence

When Pamela rejected his presence, his desperate need to offer her comfort, he took off on a wild sunset gallop on Southfork lands. His first stop was J.R.'s grave, where he spoke out loud to the tombstone, as if the old man were standing right there.

"Guess what old man? I'm just a chip off the old block. You taught me how to do it, and I'm doing it better than you. I've brought a good woman low, and dragged her through the mud. Every hack knows her shame, and every sinner can throw it up in her face. I've done nothing to protect her, nothing to keep her safe, and nothing to honor her goodness. Just like you, Daddy. Just like you. I found myself a beauty queen, ensnared her in a web of false pretences, and put her in the cage of my vanity and passion."

He clapped his hands now and laughed out loud. "Woooh, I'm batting a thousand, Daddy! And no smooth talking and poetry is going to square me with the Man upstairs. I'm still going to have to pay for what I've done. Which I'm sure you've found out to be true by now too, Daddy."

"I'm walking in your boots, old man. And they're full of regret. Is that what hell is like?"

After he had abused his father's memory aplenty, John Ross rode out to the cattle herd and ran with the ranch hands for a couple hours.

Riding on the range, he sized up quite soberly what his life had come down to. He had expected it for a long time, so he should have been prepared for his sentence to be handed out.

By the time he turned his mount around and rode for the stables it was past a civilized hour for a father to be coming home. He tiptoed in the house and went up to the guest bedroom he used to sleep in when Pamela didn't want him around.

He couldn't resist crawling out the window and going to look thru the skylight, to see if all was well with Pamela. She was sitting on the bed cross legged, nursing one of the boys, her eyes shut, her head leaning against the headboard. She looked exhausted. He got a punch in the stomach when Christopher approached the bed with Ross Junior and put him down to change his diaper. He put him in the crib, then brought a tray and put a sandwich to Pamela's mouth. He coaxed her to take a bite but it was obvious she hardly had enough energy to chew her food. Christopher sat there, with the utmost patience, alternating between a sip of water and a bite of sandwich until she was done. Next, he took the child from her and changed him also. Then he returned to tuck Pamela in. All the longing of John Ross' his heart was to be in that bed that night, holding that woman. But she didn't need him. She must not want him.

When Pam was awakened by her twin alarm clocks that morning she was groggy and disoriented. John Ross was already showered and dressed and entered the room to help with the boys. This time John Robert got to nurse first, without a change, because once awake he was impatient. He took Ross Jr. in the bathroom and shut the door. He whispered to him, and they had their usual conversation while he got him ready. By and by he started to show signs of distress and he walked him back and forth. "That's alright boy, she's gonna feed you. You're so good. You're so patient. Yes, you are."

When he took him in and switched him for his brother he asked, "You okay?"

Pamela looked up at him and he saw none of the love he usually saw in her eyes for him. "Yes," she said.

He leaned up against the inside of the bathroom door and kissed John Robert just to keep himself from actually sobbing.

He gave a bright and peppy John Robert to Ann in the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee.

"Is Pamela up and ready?" Afton asked.

"Ah, she's nursing the other one." He answered. "She hasn't had a chance to get in the shower yet."

"What? We have to be there in under an hour." She got up and headed for her daughter.

"Pammie, that's enough of that. Look at you. You've got to look your best today. What are you going to wear?"

"Don't know," Pam shrugged.

Afton went into the closet and rummaged. She came out with a cream colored suit and a lacey blouse, criss-cross strap sandals. "This outfit screams damsel in distress with a little bit of supermodel thrown in," she said. "Now jump in the shower, quick. Give me the child, I'll give him to his father."

Afton made sure that Pamela looked perfect. She did her make-up and hair with the efficiency of a make up artist. She didn't even consider feeding her breakfast, though. Pamela was as disembodied and aloof as a china doll.

In court that morning judge Vickers said. "Counsel, is there any more evidence you want to present?"

"Your honor, the defense rests."

The closing statements were presented, with all the vehemence and logic each side could muster. The eyes of the jury were riveted on the tragic, dignified figure of the victim. So distant, ethereal, as if her soul had flown to a better place. They would have preferred to hear from her own lips any word that could have given them a clue as to her state of mind.

They must have decided, each in their own soul, to take up the sword in her defense, because the jury awarded a swift guilty verdict. They were not rewarded with a single smile from the victim. She only collapsed back into her seat and had to be carried out of the courtroom.

"Darling," John Ross whispered.

"Water," she said.

"Here," Suelen put a bottle to her mouth.

As they reached the hallway it was mobbed. Bobby was shooing away the spectators. "Give them some room."

When they got into the small holding room John Ross didn't put her down on a hard chair but sat with her cradled in his arms. "I'm hungry," Pam frowned.

"Here, darling, have a mint." Suelen pulled it out of her purse. "That'll give you some sugar. Christopher run and see if you can get her a candy bar or something out of a machine."

"Sorry I forgot to feed you this morning." John Ross whispered.

She had her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder, but she did not look up.

"Really, Pammie, sometimes I think you have one of those eating disorder thingies, the way you forget to eat," Afton said.

"Put me down," Pamela said, getting up. She stood up straight now, "If you must know, mother, I was severely bulimic in college. Not that you would have ever noticed." After she smoothed her clothes she walked out of the room, a queen leading an entourage. The effect was spoiled when Christopher handed her a candy bar and she tore its wrapping off and practically stuffed it in her mouth.

On the courthouse steps, Pam approached the podium where the prosecutor was addressing the press on his success. A hush went over the crowd as he gave the spotlight to her.

"I'd like to say, to any woman out there, who has suffered sexual or any other kind of attack, that it is not your fault, and that if you can, fight to get the son of a bitch put away. It won't be easy, you might get hurt, but it's worth it. We've gotta turn the tide, and get the trash out."

In the car, Suelen hugged her, "Well said, darling."

John Ross was thinking, "Hang on little darling, it won't be long till all the trash is cleared out of your life."

Pamela slept a lot afterwards, and ate the food at Southfork, and played with the babies. But for John Ross she had few words. He took it as a confirmation that she was finally drifting away from him. She was realizing the mistake she'd made in taking him back. The time was approaching for him to set her free. Of course, by setting her free, his own sentence would be sealed.

"What do you want to do darling?" he asked her, during a peaceful moment with the boys.

"Get us to St. Kitts, that's where Pamela feels safe."

Though John Ross found that odd, her reference to herself in the third person, he fully understood her meaning. "Alright."

It was a short two weeks later, after Dr. Macnamara had been sentenced that they left.

At the sentencing, the judge said:

"There are several factors that have gone into our sentence of this defendant. They are as follows:

1 We have considered that the sexual assault of Mrs. Pamela Barnes Ewing was aggravated sexual assault due to the fact that the victim was under the influence, not of a sex drug, but of a psychological restraint that made her mentally incapacitated to give or refuse consent.

2\. The perpetrator had a supervisory capacity and a power over the victim, which he used to assault and rape her instead of to heal. He abused his professional oath to do no harm and chose to inflict grievous harm.

3\. The perpetrator has not demonstrated any remorse for his actions, but rather, an arrogance that chills the soul.

Therefore, I am awarding him the maximum sentence under Texas law of fifteen years in prison."

Though John Ross had visited a lawyer and conducted a number of items of business thru him, he gave no signs at Ewing Global that he was preparing to take off. On the morning they left for the airport, he used a small back road coming out of Southfork, in an unmarked car. The car they arrived in the night before stayed on the grounds.

The arrival in St. Kitts, the visit to Mama Joy's on the way from the airport, seemed to almost immediately bring back the Pamela John Ross knew.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" Pamela jumped out of the car and ran to hug Mama Joy, who was coming down the steps.

"Whaaat?" Mama Joy hugged her to herself like she was one of her own. "You're back. Let me see them. Bring them out here. First, let me get my arms around this man."

She hugged John Ross with equal affection, and when introduced she took hold of the boys, one in each arm. She walked around the restaurant, showing them to the staff. The babies were fully engaged and willing to smile at anyone who smiled or spoke to them.

John Ross' heart melted with the food, the company, but mostly, at the site of his wife's smiles. Pamela would be happy here.

Mama Joy noticed John Ross was somewhat subdued. "And have you been doing your work?" Mama Joy said to him on the side.

He looked at her and then away. "Some people don't deserve redemption."

"Not if they don't ask for it," she said, matter of fact.

He didn't answer her, just took a long look at his wife, engaged at the big table in the corner.

"John Ross, dear. Listen to me. We must not dwell on our deficiencies, or they will completely consume us. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"I'll think on it."

"Well, I won't burden you with any more words you can't hear," she said. "A cup has to be empty before it can be filled. Come and meet my baby girl. She's back from Granada. Here she comes up the steps right now."

Pamela had to do a double take when she was introduced to Regine. "Wow."

She should have known the female version of Godwin would have been quite riveting. But Regine was awe-inspiring. Long (very long) curly black hair with bold redish highlights framed a milk chocolate complexion without a single blemish. Her black jeans and crisp white polo shirt, a uniform for some establishment, instead of detracting, perfectly framed her stature and beauty.

"Hello, Miss St. Kitts and Nevis," Pamela said, extending her hand.

"Oh my goodness, what these people been telling you. Hello, it's my pleasure to meet you." She also shook John Ross' hand.

"Are you serious?" Pamela laughed. "Did I hit the nail on the head?"

"Yes, Miss 2010, my dear. Enough money to put me thru two years of medical school."

"Really, you're in Medical School? Wow again."

Regine's eyes flickered with a shade of something. "Yes well, tell me about yourselves," she said.

Pamela hesitated. But John Ross didn't. "We're the proud parents of these two young men." John Ross had retrieved John Robert from another family member.

"Oh, that's a handful of healthy right there." She picked up his feet. "Three months? Any teeth coming yet?

"Not quite yet." Pamela said.

"Oh. You have a lot to look forward to."

They laughed. "Are you going into pediatrics, by any chance?"

"Most likely, yes," She said. "Right now I'm just looking to earn some money," she said, "so I can go back for my third year."

Later, after consulting Pamela, John Ross approached Regine, asking, "Any chance you'd want a job with us, helping with the boys? We…have some appointments and need childcare."

"Well, let me see. I'm a night desk clerk at the Marriot. If it's during the day, I'd be delighted."

"Well, if you tell me what you make there, I'll triple it. That way you can work for us exclusively." He looked out at the sea, "I might have to travel a bit. With you there I'll know that Pamela's not alone."

"Well, that works for me, she said. Okay. When do you need me?"

"Tomorrow," he said, soberly.

Regine was a highly intuitive person. She sensed a heavy burden was weighing on him. Of course, with the slight acquaintance they had, it was not up to her to inquire why.

John Ross, though, was actually relieved by their exchange. She was the daughter of a family he trusted implicitly, her qualifications were impeccable. He couldn't have done better if he'd gone to an agency. The fates were cooperating with his plans.

John Ross looked out at the horizon now, the sea and the places around him, then at the people surrounding him. He absolutely loved this place. He would stay here forever if he could. But it was part of his sentence to leave it and never set foot on it again.

By the time Regine arrived at flamingo house the next day Pamela was in a high good mood. She was relieved to have a hand with the boys when John Ross said he had to go out for a bit. She wanted to put things away, organize the house, and cook her own dinner. Regine was self sufficient with the boys, as long as they weren't hungry.

John Ross had called Gina for an appointment, mostly because he wanted to talk about Pamela. But she kept insisting on talking about him.

"How, does that make you feel, this greater "independence" you perceive in Pamela?"

"Oh, I'm happy for her. I always expected it."

"Aren't you lying to me? And to yourself."

"Well, what do you want me to say, that I feel desperate? Like an invisible worm? It would be a sorry thing indeed if I started to feel sorry for myself."

"It's not feeling sorry for yourself to acknowledge your fear."

"To tell you the truth I don't want to open up that door right now. Maybe later." When I'm gone, he said, to himself.

"John Ross, from all you've told me of the birth, and everything you and Pamela have been through, it would be totally normal for you to be…affected. I mean…it wouldn't be normal if you weren't. The depression, the anxiety, the absolute sense of fatigue, these are all classic symptoms of PTSD."

"Meaning?"

"Post traumatic stress syndrome."

"Oh, so now I'm a danger to myself and others too."

"Not necessarily, this isn't just suffered by combat veterans, it comes in many forms."

"But the bottom line is I'm falling apart. Thanks. I think I already knew that."

"Well, I can give you a prescription for the anxiety. And we can work on this. You're not alone."

"Well, I didn't come here for that. I just wanted to know how you felt Pamela is doing. Is she…coping."

"Well, off the cuff, and I might be proven wrong later, but what I saw on that stand, after she…was made to recall the grueling details of the rape, was a strong persona, a woman who was coping with things, in a direct, straightforward way. In fact, it was amazing, almost too good to be true."

"Maybe knowing what was coming, I mean, being aware of it ahead of time, made remembering it less…bad." For him, it hadn't been any less bad. In fact, it had been the nail on the coffin. To hear her tell it again. To know of his own utter failure to protect, and his culpability in the events, was a searing wound. A weeping, gaping, inconsolable wound.

"Well, memory integration is never easy. The mind will do anything to resist feeling the feelings that are associated with the memories. Both consciously and unconsciously."


	22. Season 2, Episode 8 - Farewell My Love

John Ross and Pamela, Season 2 Episode 8 – Farewell My Love

Pamela was putting John Robert down. John Ross walked out the terrace door, to the very edge of the grass, where a distant ocean could still be seen by the light of a full moon. He stood there feeling the sublimity of the moment, and that it was his last night.

A slight rustle told him she was behind him. He looked at her. She returned the look, long and hard. He pulled her close, but he had no intentions. He only wanted to see her reaction. She came to him and in an instant they were kissing. Harsh, angry kisses, it seemed, on her part. On his, it was just a bounty he had never expected, to have one last time with her.

They fell to the grass and rolled in it and were done all too quickly for him. She had said not a word of endearment, there was just the sensual, hot abandon. There was a time in his life when he would have been just fine with that. But the John Ross that he was now wanted tenderness, endearments, and a sign of love. Yes, love. Of that, he was sure, there was none. When he kissed her ears, whispered in her hair, kissed her face, she evaded him and assumed an aggressive posture. And when they were spent, she walked away. It was a confirmation of all he believed.

Christopher arrived at the airport in St. Kitts and got a cab to Dr. Gina's office. John Ross had called him less than forty eight hours ago and said, "We need you, man. It's a crisis. We need you in a session with the psychiatrist again. When can you come?"

"Let me check out some flights. I have to be creative."

"Take all necessary precautions, I don't have to tell you, don't leave any kind of a trail."

"I know, John Ross."

Christopher would do anything to make sure Pamela was alright. But it was true, he had to take extreme precautions and this was not the best time to leave. Even though John Ross had told the company (in a letter he left for the board) that he was taking an extended vacation so his family could heal from the trauma of an extremely public trial, the farce had to be kept. No Ewing could give the slightest impression of knowing they were in bed with the cartel. He was almost sure he was being tailed day and night.

He found an alternative energy conference to attend in Chicago, booked a hotel, and engaged Bum to oversee his leaving a digital trail behind to show he had in fact attended. He then took a private flight to St. Kitts.

When Pamela awoke that morning there was a note next to her, saying, "Had to go take care of some stuff. Appointment with Gina at 2:00p.m. Be there. Regine can watch the boys."

It was odd. He had left her the car. Was he on foot?

She got to Gina's a few minutes late and found that John Ross hadn't yet arrived. Two minutes after sitting down with Gina, though, Christopher was led into the room by the receptionist.

He kissed Pamela on the cheeck and said, "Where's John Ross? He said it was a crisis. Why did he leave this packet the receptionist just gave me? Is he babysitting the boys?"

"No, our new nanny, Regine's got them." Pamela answered.

"What's this all about anyway?" Now he looked at the doctor.

"I haven't the faintest idea. But let's see what's in the packet," Dr. Emanuele said.

He opened it and two envelopes fell out. One addressed to Pamela and the other addressed to himself. There was a document left in the packet.

He opened his own while Pamela read hers. It said:

"Dear Cuz,

Between the two of us, you're by far the better man. I'm setting her free. Go for it, if she'll have you, you've got my blessing."

He was horrified, and put the note hastily away. He looked up at Pamela, reading a longer letter, and could only wait. He pulled the other papers out of the packet and saw they were divorce proceedings.

Pamela now looked up. "What does he mean?"

"I don't know." Christopher looked at her, all the compassion he felt was no doubt in his eyes. "What does he say?"

She read, "Dear Pamela, You're the love of my life and always will be. But I haven't done right by you since the moment I met you. Both of us know it. I'm setting you free, like I told you I would when you were better. All I care about is that you're alright. The past few weeks, since the trial, have convinced me that freedom is what you want and need. Please sign the papers and return them to the lawyer, he'll take care of the rest. Don't look back, just be happy and love those boys for me."

She looked up now and said, "What are those papers in your hand?"

Christopher handed them over without a word.

"Divorce papers?" she was still, clearly, not taking it in.

"What did he say to you? Why did he call you here?" She was frowning at Christopher.

"Pamela—" Gina tried to soothe.

Pamela raised a hand to stop her from talking. "What did he say to you, Christopher? I want to see it. Give it to me!"

When she read it she laughed, softly. "This is ridiculous."

"Ha ha ha ha ha," she started, and then the bouts of laughter just kept coming.

Gina tried again to interfere, but was not allowed to.

Suddenly, a little girl voice came out of Pamela, saying "Stop that, Pam. Stop it. You're being mean."

"I'm being mean? That's rich!" the laughing voice was considerably lower in pitch but higher in volume. "That son of a bitch, lying, cheating, devil John Ross dumps Pamela without a backwards look and I'm the mean one! Pammie, you've always been the stupidest little cunt this side of Texas."

Pammie gasped. "Don't call me that! It's unladylike." She was completely distraught.

"Unladylike, and who's the lady here, huh? I don't see any ladies. 'Cause you're certainly not a lady, are you? The way you spread your legs for that doctor—"

"Shut up!. Shut up! He made me. You know he made me," she was crying now, most pitifully. "And if I hadn't done it Pamela would have had to do it. And you know she can't take the abuse."

"That's because she's a spineless little coward, who let's everyone shit on her, and walk away from her. And she never does anything about it. I'm tired of cleaning up her messes, and holding up her sinking ass. She's a pussy and a coward."

"And you're a bully and a cheater. You cheated on Pamela. I know you slept with John Ross last night." Pammie's voice was always whimpering.

"Ha! So what? Who cares, you little ninny. You've been wanting to sleep with him for months. But you're too chicken!"

"No. He's Pamela's, I would never," she cried out. "And he's gone and left her now because of you. You…you. Pam you're a bad girl, and it's your fault he's left her. Pamela's going to be so broken hearted she won't come back any more."

"Good riddance to the trash. The both of them. They deserved each other. Him, for being a slime bag and her for putting up with his sorry ass."

"Excuse me." Gina now tried to join the conversation between the two personas. "I'm Gina."

"We know who you are." Pam spoke, this time not so rudely.

"Can I speak to Pamela?"

"She's not coming back. Not ever." Pam answered.

"How can I get a message to her?"

"You can't. She's gone for good. She's a wimp. She can't handle the…shitty side of life so I take over for her. Right now, she's a mile down the shit hole, so depressed she can even raise her head. You'd have to force feed her to keep her alive. You understand what I'm saying."

"Yes, Pam. I understand. And we thank you, for holding down the fort."

"Eh."

"Do you think that Pamela could use a rest?"

"We could all use a rest. Pammie's down the shit hole too. From seeing that crack head, psycho rapist in the court and having to tell about all of his…shenanigans."

"Okay. Well, I can arrange for you to get some rest in the hospital. Will you go?"

Pam shrugged. "Might as well."

Gina had taken Christopher out into the hallway now, and after giving instructions to her staff for someone to sit with Pamela and for hospitalization arrangements to be made, she looked at him.

"I'm trusting you to figure out what to do about the children. As you can see, she's not in any condition…"

"Don't worry. I'll do whatever needs to be done." But he shook his head. "I still can't believe John Ross could have done this."

"Well, he came to see me a few days ago," Gina said, "and from what I saw, he has a severe case of PTSD. He's also been thru more than his psyche can handle. He's in this place of hopelessness, so his decisions are according to what he perceives. I had no idea it was this bad though, or that he was planning something so drastic. I hope you can find him and bring him back. He shouldn't be on his own."

"But he loves her, and she needs him." Christopher was still trying to wrap his head around it.

"Well, he asked me how she was and I said I thought she was alright, she was strong. I never saw this coming. I don't know how long these multiples have been around but I've never seen them before. So, John Ross left convinced that she was in good mental health, and that she didn't need him any more."

"God, what a mess!"

"And, obviously, he thought he had a backup in you."

"That's insane."

"Is it?"

Christopher drove Pamela's car back to flamingo house.

A woman answered when he knocked on the door. He didn't want to let himself in and cause the nanny a shock, "Yes?"

"Hi, are you…" He couldn't remember the name. "I'm…I'm Christopher. Gosh, this is weird. I'm John Ross's cousin." He hastily pulled out his driver's license. "See, my name is Ewing, just like his."

"Uh-hum."

"I just came from the doctor's office, where Pamela had an appointment. Pamela's been hospitalized."

"Oh." She paused. "And where is John Ross, is he with her?"

"No. Not exactly."

"Well, come in," she said. But he still felt awkward, worried that she might not feel safe with him.

"Are the boys asleep?" he asked.

"No, they're awake."

"Oh, can I see them?" It was out before he realized.

"Can you answer a few questions for me?" she asked.

"Sure."

"What are their names?"

"Ross Junior and John Robert. I'm not just their uncle, I'm their godfather too."

"And the name of the doctor?"

"Dr. Gina Emanuele."

"Okay, you may pass."

He laughed with her, "You're very good. What was your name again?"

"Regine. I'm pleased to meet you Christopher Ewing."

"Same here. I have some weird and difficult news. JR and RJ! How's it hanging boys?"

There was a volley of spirited kicking and he picked Ross Jr. up and hugged him. "That's a good boy. Oh, you smell so good. Did you just take a bath?" He smelled his tummy at the same time he nuzzled it.

"Ha ha." Ross Jr. started.

"Oh my God, did you hear that?" he looked at Regine. "Did he just laugh?"

"No. I think you're imagining things. Babies this age don't have the laugh reflex yet."

Christopher blinked. Boy, this was some nanny. "I heard what I heard. You're ahead of the curve, aren't you Ross Jr."

He gave her Ross Jr. and picked up John Robert now. In the kitchen, he got out some juice and poured himself a cup.

"What was the sad news," she asked.

"Ah…I don't know where to begin. I'm still in shock." He looked at her. He was noticing this was no ordinary looking girl. She didn't rush him.

"How well do you know Pamela and John Ross?" he asked.

"Well, I just met them. But my mother knows them well."

"Who's your mom?"

"Mama Joy, do you know her?"

"Yes!" Now that he felt less alone he started talking. "John Ross, for strangely altruistic reasons, has left Pamela."

"Oh my goodness."

"And she has collapsed as a result. Or I would say, dissolved."

"How serious is it? Is it shock or a psychotic break?"

He registered again that this nanny was highly unusual. "I would say the latter."

"Dear Lord," she sighed. "Well, she's in the best hands. Dr. Gina is the best."

"Now, can I talk to you about what…how we are going to take care of these little guys? I'll pay you additional if you can stay nights. And I don't know how long this will take."

Her eyes flickered and she said, "Well, rest easy. You don't have to pay me extra. I'm being paid sufficiently for what I do. And I'll stay here until their mother is back on her feet."

"Thank you," he said. "Do you think between the two of us we can handle them?"

"Well, if we need more help we'll holler. My family will come running. In fact, why don't we go down there right now. I'm no cook and we need dinner."

"You don't cook? I mean, not that you have to cook, for me I mean." Was he babbling? "But your mother is the best cook on the island."

"Yeah, and I saw her slaving at that all my life. Ergo, I didn't want to go anywhere near it. Actually, I don't think she'd let me."

"What do you do when you're not…taking care of kids."

"I study medicine," she said simply.

That explained a lot. Not all, but a lot.


	23. Season 1, Episode 9 - Swimming Lessons

John Ross and Pamela, Season 2, Episode 9 – Swimming Lessons

"It's just another part of her journey she's got to follow before she can heal." Mama Joy said, when Christopher told her in detail of Pamela's collapse. "But she's a strong girl, with a good head on her shoulders."

"Wish I could say the same for my cousin," Christopher said. "His decision making process leaves a lot to be desired."

"He's a man chased by demons." Mama Joy countered. "Plagued by the same affliction as Lot's wife. If he's not careful he's going to turn into a pillar of salt. Only a good man can have that much regret about his actions, but that regret will surely pave his way into hell if he doesn't shake it."

She asked him to keep her posted on when she could go and see Pamela. He wished he'd asked her opinion about John Ross, whether she thought he would…hurt himself. But he was too chicken to bring that question into the open.

He joined his nephews at the back table now, and saw that they had been adopted by a number of family members. People didn't leave babies in the stroller here, they had them in arms all the time.

A tall man by the name of Godwin introduced himself to him, saying, "That's my wife Lotta who's appropriated herself of your nephew there, and the little guy making faces at him is my son.

"Oh, nice to meet you, I'm Christopher, John Ross's cousin."

"Well, I'm his best man."

At the blank look on Christopher's face he asked, "Didn't he ever tell you of his wedding renewal ceremony he concocted and sprung on Pamela as a surprise?"

"No, I hadn't heard about that one."

"Aw. It was the most romantic thing I ever saw a husband do." Lotta said, with a raised eyebrow at her husband.

"Tell us the story then, Godwin," his sister insisted.

"Well, this man had a mission," Godwin began, "and he roped all the rest of us into it…"

By the time he finished, they were both laughing and teary eyed, Godwin had a knack for telling stories.

Christopher found out more about him later in a one on one. He was an engineer with the island electric company, but he also was trying very hard to build a company of his own.

"What kind of company is it?"

"It's alternative energy. We're trying to interface with some European Investors to build solar panel farms here.

"That's funny, because I'm in alternative energy too."

"No kidding, man. What kind? Wind?" Godwin asked.

"No, methane."

Godwin started laughing. "Does that qualify as alternative where you're from? It's still a fossil fuel derivative."

"Wait a second, don't laugh," Christopher said, good naturedly, "In Texas, it certainly does qualify. You try talking to the Texas oil men about it and you'll see what I mean."

That night, when everyone was tucked in for the night he called Suelen and told her the painful news.

"My God. Oh my God! Why did he do that?" she asked, about John Ross.

Christopher explained about the PTSD.

"I could kick myself," Suelen said. "I sensed there was something wrong with him and I did nothing about it." She got lost in a fog of regret. "The focus was so much on Pamela, because of the trial, I forgot to look at him. But now that I review it in my mind, I remember how melancholy he was sometimes, when he thought no one was looking. He's so much like his father in that regard. J.R. could never show anyone his weakness."

"Yeah."

"Well, we've got to find him. He shouldn't be out there all alone."

"That's what I was thinking. I've still got a few days I can stay away, and I've got to be here. But maybe if you could visit this lawyer that drew up the divorce papers. John Ross put the house in Pamela's name, set up payments into her account, so he must have set up escrow. This guy worked with him on very secret stuff, like the sensitive location stuff, so I've gotta believe he trusts him. Hopefully, he knows his whereabouts. If anyone can convince him to share them it's you, Suelen."

"Ok. I'll try my best and let you know. Tell me more about poor Pamela."

When she heard how Pamela had been harboring multiple personalities to cope with her traumas she said, "Well, some of us take to drinking and some of us create multiple personalities. It makes sense, anything to escape the pain."

"So, she's in the hospital, you say. How's this person who's helping you watch the boys?"

"Oh my god, it's like I'm playing house with this woman I don't even know." He laughed, then thought maybe that was a weird characterization. "No, she's excellent. She's a med student, and from a very trusted family of friends of theirs. She can hold down the fort. But we have to have a family member here Suelen. Can you come? I…I'm sorry but I don't think Afton is the best person for us to call."

"That woman! I'll bet she's responsible for at least one of those multiple personalities. Plus, she's got no feel for those babies. Pamela is such a good mother, I don't think she'd want her there. Plus, Christopher, she'd have to be able to keep her mouth shut. No, I think it's too big a risk. I'll talk to Bobby about my leaving. But it can't look suspicious. Oh my God. How can one family have so many tribulations?"

John Ross really hoped this wouldn't send Suelen back to the bottle. There was no one better than his aunt. She was all about giving and being there for her family. But there were things that could break her. Her son was at the core of her vulnerabilities.

In the morning, Regine said, "Let's go down to the beach."

"The beach, really? Aren't they a little too young?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha," she laughed at him. "What do you mean, too young for the beach? How can anyone be too young for the beach? We take babies to the beach from day one."

Christopher was now on the defensive, "I don't know, aren't they going to get burned? I mean… I mean, maybe you guys don't have to worry about that…but they're little white babies."

Now she stared at him and he knew he'd said the wrong thing. Was that racial, to say that?

She now took on a patient, 'I'm going to set you right' tone. "Okay. That's a misconception, all babies, whether black or white should be protected from getting burned. A little extra melanin in the skin doesn't mean we can be careless."

Christopher breathed a sigh of relief that she'd chosen not to get offended.

"But my wanting to take them on the beach is because they need fresh air, and sunshine, and fun! Just because their parents are going thru a dark time does not mean they should have to suffer."

"You're right. Let's go then."

She had everything packed, not just for an hour but for a day on the beach, complete with sandwiches and baby formula.

On that day Christopher's mind was blown. He never could have imagined that introducing his nephews to the calm Caribbean Ocean could be so much fun. The sand was absolutely white, the water as clear, and little schools of yellow and black striped fish could be seen without scuba gear. Regine and him each had a baby and they played as a foursome, making the babies kick water at each other, chase each other and look at the fish. When the time came for a feeding they retired to their blanket, which was spread under a gnarled grape nut tree.

When the babies fell asleep Christopher felt so good he dozed off too. But the movement of the woman next to him, getting up and leaving, must have woken him because he watched her walk away into the water and he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. She had shed the shorts and tank top she'd been wearing all morning, and which had been distracting him, and now was clad in nothing but her bikini. The neon colors against black skin, the shape of her hips, the length of her legs, the hair which she twisted into a knot. This body was an eleven on a scale of ten. He couldn't afford to miss a second of the view before him. It took his breath away. "Shish," he breathed. Men worshiped at the altar of beauty queens like this.

When she came back he faked being asleep, and turned his body face down. He was acutely conscious, though, that the body on the other end of the blanket, the babies were in the middle, was lying face up. His position soon became so uncomfortable he rose and ran to the water. He swam out as far as he could and stayed there.

"What you eating," he asked, when he finally emerged from the water. He couldn't help but notice she had put on her clothes again.

"Avocado sandwich," she smiled. "My favorite."

"Seriously, that's all you brought?"

"Are you complaining?" she asked. "Did you bring anything to share with me?"

"Nope. When you said you had sandwiches I thought you had sandwiches."

"Well, have you ever eaten an avocado sandwich?"

"I…I'll try one now," he said, "but only because there's a scary lady offering it to me and I don't dare say no."

He realized he was so hungry anything would have tasted good. "I guess it could grow on you. With a little salt."

"We consume too much salt. It's not good for you."

"You are so contrary."

She laughed, "That was the nursery rhyme they would sing for me when I was little. "Little Queen Mary, quite contrary."

Christopher smiled, "I'm picturing that. Wasn't it Miss Mary, though."

"Well that's what Regine means, queen."

Yes, I can see that. You're definitely a queen. "Shall we take the boys in the water again?" he said, to make sure he didn't stare at her.

"Yes, but first, make yourself useful. Peel the mango." She handed him a perfect red yellow fruit that must of weighed at least a pound."

"What's the best way," he asked.

"You don't know how to peel a mango?" Again, she laughed at him. "Like an orange."

"Why do you always have to be laughing at me? I'm not half as incompetent as you make me out to be," he kidded.

She now turned serious, "Christopher, there is nothing incompetent about you. The way you've stepped in here, with these little guys is amazing."

He was deeply embarrassed now. And that was probably why he did it, he shared too much. "Ah, truth is, I have a very soft spot in my heart for these little guys. I…they could've been mine."

She shook her head. He was quick to explain, "I was married to Pamela several years ago, and we were going to have twins. But they didn't make it."

"Oh. I'm so so sorry." The luminous brown eyes drew him in with their compassion.

When they went back into the water Regine said, "Watch this."

She held John Robert up facing her and slowly submerged her own head in the water several times. Then she slowly and carefully included the baby in her motion. At one moment, Christopher held his breath, the baby and Regine were both submerged and looking at each other under the water, eyes wide open. She brought him up after a few seconds and Christopher expected to hear a loud complaint. But the baby took it all in stride, as if being immersed in fluid were natural to him.

Christopher tried not to speak as loudly as his emotions. "Holy cow. That was awesome!"

"Now do it with Ross Junior."

"Naw. You do it." He switched babies with her. "I want to see his reaction first."

Ross Jr. was not to be outdone by his brother.

As they walked up the wooden stairs to the house that afternoon, they were already making plans for the next day. "You can make the sandwiches," Regine said.

"Fine. I will."

The boys went to sleep without protest, making it an early evening.

"If you want to take off for a bit, I think I can hold down the fort," he offered.

"Are you sure? I think I'll go down to my mom's."

"Yeah, bring me a meal when you come back if you don't mind," he gave her a couple of bills.

"Oh, I can come back quick."

"No, you don't have to. I'm not hungry, and I have a bunch of calls I have to make."

"What do you want me to order?"

"Surprise me," he said.

He talked to Suelen, to Bum, then to his father. Suelen was unable to get anything from the lawyer, not even the certain feeling that he knew John Ross's whereabouts', which he denied.

Bum was pretty sure he hadn't been tailed to Chicago so far.

His father had been filled in by Suelen, but had a lot of questions. He was angry, of course, at John Ross's 'lack of responsibility.' Christopher knew that it must have torn up his guts to leave her, how could his dad not see that?

Bobby was adamant that Suelen could not leave at this juncture, the FBI had been brought in and they were pressuring Bobby to make sure Christopher was back at work by the end of the week.

"Dad, this is family. I can't leave Pamela alone here. I can't leave the babies alone. What the hell do they want me to do?"

"I don't know Christopher, I don't know. But if Trevino's men start digging around looking for you then it will go bad for all of us. You've got to find John Ross and get him back home. That's the only solution. You have four days. That's it."

His dad hung up and Christopher couldn't help but say, "Damn!"

"Something wrong?" Regine asked, as she put down a package on the kitchen counter.

He turned around before he'd adjusted his face. "Naw, it's just stuff."

"Your face doesn't hide much. You look like you've lost your mother," she said.

"No. That happened when I was seven," he answered, irritated that she was so perceptive.

She didn't answer back in that smart way so he turned back to enjoy having made her speechless. She was very still, and her eyes had filled with tears. "I'm sorry," she said. "There is no greater loss. I can't…I can't even imagine it."

She pointed to the package and said. "Your dinner." And then she quickly left.

If it wouldn't have made a bigger mess than the one he'd just created, he would have picked something up and smashed it. He squashed the temptation to have a tantrum and sat at the counter with his tablet, eating dinner while he searched all the airline flights and private carriers flying in and out of St. Kitts two days ago.

He wished Regine would come back out, so that he could tell her the food she'd selected for him was amazing. Well, actually, so that he could just say he was sorry…for what? If he'd gone off on her it was only in his mind, an impulse he'd failed to restrain. He hadn't said anything rude. But some women were that sensitive, they picked up on the unspoken emotions. Gosh, he felt like an ass.

Christopher worked into the night, leaving messages for every airline he could find a contact. He was awake when the babies started fussing and started making the bottles. When she came out he had them ready.

"Do you need some help?" he asked.

"I think I'll be alright. Thank—"

"Oh-oh. I spoke too soon," they both heard the crying baby. "Here,' can you feed him while I get John Robert?" she asked.

"Sure thing," he took Ross Jr. "Here you are boy, come with Uncle Christopher."

He enjoyed the feeding, but it didn't stop his brain from extraneous thoughts. Like, when was the last time he had been in a house with a woman in a bathrobe, who wasn't related to him?

He castigated himself severely. Even the wrong look could constitute sexual harassment in this type of circumstance when the woman was an employee of his relatives and her feeling safe and comfortable was critical to her staying on the job.

When she'd fed his brother she came back out to get Ross Jr. As he put him in her arms he said, "Hey, I'm sorry about before."

She looked up and said, "Don't be silly, Christopher. You did nothing to apologize for."

He came away with a lighter heart and the faint aroma of fresh lemons.

The next morning they followed the routine of going down the stairs to the beach. It was actually an even better day than the day before, and what Regine did in the next "swimming lesson" thrilled him at the same time it terrified him.

When the baby was submerged with her, she let go of him. Christopher lunged, speechless, because he thought she had dropped the baby by accident. Her hand went up and indicated for him to stay back. Terrified, he watched, as the baby simply kicked to the surface.

"Oh my God. I didn't know you were going to do that. My heart—"

"Watch, watch, we're going to do it again."

After a good half hour, taking turns with the babies, and using her method, they emerged from the water and went to sit on the blanket. Christopher was laughing so loud he could hear it in his own ears. He probably had never laughed so loud, or been so excited in his whole life. He felt he was a little manic and high on sheer joy. "God, that was the most amazing thing I've ever witnessed."

"So, you worked very late last night," she started a conversation as he handed out the sandwiches.

"Yeah, I'm trying to find my cousin."

"Any luck?"

"None. I checked my messages this morning. He's not on any flight manifest."

"Hum." She thought about it for a few moments. "Then he must have got off the island another way. Why don't you check the ships?"

"Wow. Hadn't thought about that. You mean like cruise ships?"

"Yes, but if he was trying not to leave a trace then maybe he took a smaller boat."

"Gosh, I wouldn't know where to start looking."

"Well, I do. I have an uncle who's got a fishing boat down by the docks. He knows the boat owners. We can go this afternoon, if you like."

He knew how lucky he was, to have a local take him around to the exact people who might know the answer to his question. Walking among the friendly locals, with the babies, they got quite a few stares. Did they think this was his own little family? He'd have to be one lucky man.


	24. Season 2, Episode 10 - The Whole Truth

John Ross and Pamela, Season 2, Episode 10 – The Whole Truth

Regine and Christopher found no trace of John Ross having left the island on a fishing or transport boat. Regine's uncle asked around, made calls and nothing seemed to stand out. Of course, there were any number of private yachts, but on these it was hard to get information.

But it turned out the Carnival Freedom ship, from Carnival Cruise Lines, had docked in St. Kitts the day John Ross had disappeared. Christopher went online that night to find it's itinerary. From St. Kitts it had gone on to San Juan and to Grand Turk. Tomorrow the cruise itinerary said it would be at sea, docking day after tomorrow in Fort Lauderdale. If he knew John Ross, he would stay on board till the end, and would make his connections from there to wherever it was he was headed.

If he had any chance at all of catching him he had to get to Ft. Lauderdale before the ship docked day after tomorrow. But before that he had to tell Regine that he was leaving. He kept putting it off.

In the mental hospital Gina had been working with the multiples, trying to integrate them and bring Pamela back. This morning she tried a different tack.

"Do you care about the babies?" she asked Pam.

"Of course I do, but they're not mine, they're Pamela's."

"How can you say that, if you've already admitted that you and Pamela inhabit the same…body?

"Well, hell. We're not in agreement on everything. And she does shit that I don't agree with. And so does Pammie. And I get left holding the bag, mostly."

"Wouldn't you like to be a part of the decision making process?"

"Hell, yes."

"Well, then we should all talk about it, together."

"Pamela can't handle Pammie. Not right now."

"Well. Okay, we can start with you two having a sitdown." Gina said, "Listen, you know, and I know, that Pamela needs you. But there's no reason you two can't get to know each other, is there?"

"Except that she's not going to like me very much," Pam admitted, thoughtfull.

"Why do you say that, Pam. She hasn't met you yet."

"Because I hate _him_."

"Oh." So that was the difference between them. "You must not hate him so much if you were willing to sleep with him."

"Well, that's just sex. I can appreciate his talents." She got up and paced. "But I hate his guts for all the shenanigans he's pulled on her. And she's all forgiving and shit."

Gina decided to see if she could bypass this divergence just to get in contact with Pamela. "Well, he's gone now. So, it's a mute point. Are you afraid of her? Of her reaction to what you've done?"

"Give me a break. I'm the strong one. I'm not afraid of her." Pam shrugged.

"Okay, so how can I contact her? Hypnosis?"

"Gina, I'm here, but I'm not feeling well. I…I really don't know if I can stay awake."

"I understand, Pamela. I just have two quick little things I need to tell you. Okay? Stay with me. First, John Ross is suffering from PTSD, he's sick. He wouldn't have left for any other reason. Do you understand me?"

"Where are the boys?" she asked, as if she hadn't heard the first thing.

"Christopher and Regine are taking care of them."

"Okay, that's good."

"Pamela? Pamela, please stay."

Pam looked back at her and made a motion with both hands, indicating a bubble bursting. Pamela had split.

Gina was very frustrated. It was the first time in three days she'd been able to talk to Pamela. Pam had provided a continual wall.

The next day, the foursome went to the family volleyball game on the beach. Mama Joy kept the strollers near her, while both Christopher and Regine joined the game.

Unfortunately for Christopher, Regine was on the opposing side. He had to tamp down on his competitiveness, a quality his cousin had always exacerbated in him. He was afraid of crushing Regine and didn't block her ball too seriously when she came up to spike against him. He came away with a mouthful of ball.

"Don't hold back much do you?" he accused.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want the little girl spike?"

"Not at all." Why did she always seem to challenge his manhood? As if she were too much woman for him to handle. It made it impossible to ignore her. She was not a boring, mealy mouthed girl. She was just, so kickass.

And that made things seem dull when she was not around. She had decided to take a break to check on the babies, and his eyes involuntarily followed her.

Regine approached her mother from behind her chair and hugged her. "Mama dear, what you know about that young man and Pamela."

"Leave it be. That's none of your concern. Why you want to know that anyway?"

"Just curiosity."

"It killed a cat, don't you know."

"Aw." She clicked her tongue in frustration. Her mother did not like gossip. To her, it was one of the deadly sins. It caused disunity, she said.

On this day Gina was very direct with Pam when she was ushered into her office.

"Pam, I'm going to give it to you straight. I want you to talk to Pamela. I wan't you to convince her to fight for her sanity, for the sake of her babies."

"Difficult, my dear doctor. She's at a place where the shit has hit. As they used to say in my college days. Did you know I used to cover for Pamela back in college, when she'd puke her brains out one too many and couldn't study for her finals, Pam came to the rescue."

"Why did you have to cover for her? Why couldn't you just let her go to the hospital and get the help she needed?"

"Because, you see, Daddy was expecting good grades from Pamela. Nothing less than an A minus for a Barnes who was expected to take over the company some day. She was a girl, she had to prove herself twice as good as any boy."

"Was Pammie around in those days too?"

"Oh yeah, Pammie dealt with Afton. She made sure Pamela had her nails done, her hair highlighted and her five inch heels on."

"So, you both ran interference for her."

"Yep."

"Neither her father nor her mother are here right now. Why do you all have to be here?"

"Cause Pamela got in the habit, it's like a drug, you see, to have somebody you can use to deal with shit you don't want to."

"I see. Pamela doesn't like pain. Is that it?"

"You got it doc! Hit the nail on the head."

"Well, she's also missing all the fun."

"What fun?" Pam played with a paper clip, but Gina could tell she'd gotten her attention.

"Those two little boys, they're growing up without her. By the time she gets back they'll be big toddlers. I heard they learned to swim yesterday."

"What?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Christopher told me. He and the nanny took them to the beach, and had the greatest time showing them the fish and splashing around. Then, the nanny decides to dunk them in the water—

"My God, isn't that dangerous?"

At this point Gina couldn't tell whether she was talking to Pam or to Pamela.

"No. They teach babies how to hold their breath and how to float real early here. Anyhow…" she continued to tell the story, with the minutest details she could remember.

The eyes looking back at her were straight. "You know, you should tell Pamela that Christopher is leaving, and the babies are going to be on their own just with a nanny. They're abandoned, just because their mother can't face a little pain."

"A little pain? That's what you call it? Being abandoned by your husband?"

"Well, she has to decide who she loves more, her children or John Ross."

Pamela paused. "I can't decide between them."

"If he were dead would you follow him into the grave or stay here to raise your children?"

"I…I…"

"Make up your mind. These are high stakes. Feel that pain, it won't kill you. You're not a little girl anymore. The abandonment, the rejection, the loss, the loneliness, the fear," she paused after each, so that Pamela could find them, and taste them. "None of it will kill you."

After a few minutes, she said, "What do you want now, Pamela?"

"I wan't my boys not to feel that. Not to be abandoned by their father."

"What about by their mother?"

"Their mother is here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Are you back, then?"

"Yes. I'm back for good."

"I'm glad, Pamela. What do you want to do?"

"I want to go home to flamingo house and be with my boys."

"Can you take care of them without John Ross?"

"I can. I had once decided that I would if I had to. Can I go home now?"

"We have a lot to talk about. You have a habit of dissociating into multiple personalities, when you can't deal with things."

She didn't seem surprised. She just took it in stride.

"I wan't you to come see me every day. Little by little, we'll have to work on integrating them."

After they got home and put the babies down Christopher said, "Regine, I have something to tell you."

"Okay, spit it out. Give us the whole truth."

"I have to leave tomorrow morning, to get to Fort Lauderdale before the cruise ship comes into port, so I can find John Ross.

"Okay, I can hold down the fort for a few days, until you guys get back."

"Look, I have to lay the cards out on the table. I hope I find him. But even if I don't, I can't come back. I have to…to get back to work."

"What do you mean? Pamela's in the hospital. These are your nephews, this is your family. Is…is someone else coming?"

"It…it doesn't look like it. Not right now. Not just right now. Look, it's complicated."

She stood there and didn't say anything. She seemed to be computing a sum.

"Look. We trust you—"

"No, no. This is too much responsibility—"

"You're right, we can get someone else in here to help you. To take shifts—"

"No. You're crazy. That's not what I'm talking about. I can handle the boys. And if I can't I would ask my family for help. The last thing I need is some other person under foot. What I mean is that your sister in law is sick. You can't leave her here. What…what kind of people are you?" She ran out of steam, speechless.

Christopher knew how bad it looked. But he said, "Look, any amount of money—"

"Stop trying to throw money at me! I've told you, I don't need any more money for the job I'm doing—

He laughed, wiping his mouth.

"Something about this is funny to you?"

"Yeah. What kind of people are _you_? You don't want more money? I thought you were trying to get thru medical school."

"And I will. But I don't have to sell my soul to the devil to do it."

That stopped him clear in his tracks. He sat on the couch and covered his face with his hands. He was going to have to tell her. There was no other way. She was too intelligent to be fooled.

"Look Regine, I know this is…it's terrible. But I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. The reason John Ross brought his family here…is so that they would be safe."

"Safe from what?"

"From a drug cartel that's infiltrated our company."

She now sat down too, putting her beautiful long fingers to her neck.

"If I don't get back there, they are liable to get suspicious that we know they are in…in bed with us. We're trying to work with the authorities to entrap them. But it's very complex. If they thought they were at all threatened, then blackmail, kidnappings, and threats would become part of their modus operandi."

There was a huge gasp now, as she jumped up and said, "You want me to take care of two little boys that could be in danger of getting kidnapped…and you weren't even going to tell me?"

He got up now too and faced her, saying, "NO! I would never. There is no danger to them. Listen to me. We have kept this place secret. We've taken every precaution—"

"Can you guarantee that? How can you be one hundred percent sure of that?"

"You don't know John Ross. He's extremely thorough—"

"He's not here!"

He sat down again, head in his hands, thinking. "I will hire security." He looked at her with an imploring look, afraid she was on the verge of quitting on him.

"Christopher, look, I…I can see you're under enough stress. I guess what we have to do is hope for the best. I can promise you this, I'll take care of those little guys." She pointed towards the nursery. "If there's a security problem I have enough big cousins I can get one of them to stay overnight. But as for Pamela. I know my limitations. I cannot take care of her too. Maybe my mother can keep an eye on her but you should ask her yourself."

The doorbell rang at that moment and they looked at each other.

"I'm not expecting anyone," she shrugged.

Christopher got up and went to the door.

"Pamela! What a surprise. Dr. Gina?" He hugged Pamela and raised an eyebrow at the doctor, silently asking what was going on.

Pamela went straight to the nursery.

"This is the best place for her to be," the doctor said to Christopher and Regine. "She is not a danger to herself or anyone else. Neither are either of her multiple personalities, Pam and Pammie. I will be seeing her every day and we will continue to try to integrate. Okay?"

Christopher said, "Dr. I have to leave, and try to find John Ross. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. She'll be okay with you here to help," she said to Regine. "I hope you can find him, Christopher."

Pamela came out of the nursery after a good long while. And asked, "Is there anything to eat, I'm starved."

"Yeah, there's lots of Mama Joy's food in the fridge."

She was eating and thanking Christopher at the same time, saying, "I have something to show you, let me get my tablet."

She put on a video and placed it in front of him. It was the birth video. When he was done watching it he had tears in his eyes and said, "Wow."

"Listen to me, Christopher. What John Ross wrote in your note—"

"Oh. No. Don't worry—"

"It can never be. I wanted you to understand why. That's why I showed you that. That man, he kept me in this world when I didn't have the will. Do you understand?"

"I do."

"I love him with all my heart and soul. And I want him back. No matter how long it takes, I'll wait for him. So you and I, I'm sorry, I don't mean to hurt your feelings. But there is no chance of an 'us'. Not ever."

Christopher kept quiet out of chivalry, because he was more convinced than she was even, that there would never be anything else between them than a deep, abiding friendship. And what he had seen on that video, had given him a new respect for his cousin.

Unseen by either Christopher or Pamela, was Regine's paralyzed figure, a silent witness to Pamela's last words. She was left to wonder why Pamela had felt it necessary to make her rejection so clear. Had Christopher made some declaration? How crushed was he by Pamela's words?

When Christopher left the following day, he went with a feeling of indebtedness. There was no way he could ever repay Regine for her willingness to keep an eye on Pamela and on the security of his nephews, and report to him. The only words he could say that didn't sound hollow were, "I'll be back just as soon as I possibly can."

"Okay. God speed." She reached up and gave him a quick hug, then got back in the car with the two car seats in back and drove away.

Why did he feel so empty going back?


	25. Season 2, Episode 11 - New Beginings

John Ross and Pamela - Season 2 Episode 11 – New Beginings

Christopher was not successful in finding John Ross in Ft. Lauderdale. He called Pamela to let her know.

"I'm sorry Pamela. I waited for every person to disembark from that cruise ship. I staked it out for hours, binoculars in hand. He must of gotten off the ship in San Juan and taken off from there. How are you feeling?"

"I'm holding my own. It's nice to have Regine here. She helps a lot. Tomorrow I have a session with Gina."

"Listen, I'll keep looking. I promise. Okay? Just hang in there."

"Thanks Christopher."

Pamela was at Gina's office early.

"How do we do this?" she asked Gina. "How do we fix multiple personalities?"

"I don't exactly know. Maybe you and I can figure it out together. Are you motivated?"

"Yes. My babies deserve a mother. I'll do anything I have to for them."

"Well, think about yourself also as a small child in need of rescue, in need of a mother who would do anything to take care of her. You, Pamela, can be that mother that she needs, if you're courageous, not afraid to face things."

"Okay."

"So, the first personality is Pam. Pam is angry. She's very pissed at anyone who does Pamela wrong. But she's also angry at Pamela herself."

"How do I meet her?"

"You have to let yourself feel some of that anger. Maybe then she will come out into the open.

Pamela sat for a while and then said. "I feel angry at my father for killing my babies. I feel very angry at him."

"You seem very civilized about it." Gina observed.

"Fuck the fucker. May he rot in hell." Pam said. "And fuck you Pamela for being so ladylike about you anger. The reason you can do that is because you didn't want those babies anyway."

Gasp. "How can you say such a thing? That is monstrous! I loved those babies more than my life. I changed myself because of them."

"Then tell me one thing. How come you've never screamed, never yelled at your fucking father for what he did? How come you didn't tear his eyes out?" Pam yelled.

"I did something better. I helped put him in jail, for the rest of his life."

"You're a cold, cold bitch, Pamela. You've got no human warmth. How about with John Ross. What's your excuse for being so fucking soft on him?"

"I love him. And he's suffered—"

"Suffered my ass. He's a selfish, chauvinist pig. A womanizing—"

Pamela put up her hand. "I…I can't think of him that way. It hurts me too much." Pamela started to cry.

"Oh shut up. Shut up you sniveling cow."

"NOOO! You shut up! I can forgive whoever I want to forgive. I can love whoever I want to love!"

"Ooo la la. Look at Pamela get angry. How scary. You ain't nothing but a hound dog, crying all the time. Ha ha ha ha."

"At least I can keep a man around. You scared everyone away with your bitchiness. Your gutter mouth."

"Well, if he left, it's because he can't handle a real woman."

"He can't handle a real mean woman, you mean."

"There's nothing wrong with being mean to survive, that's what you and Pammie need to understand." Pam spoke so low now it was as if she were counseling a younger sister. "I can't hang around forever, waiting to see if you can protect those cubs of yours. Are you going to step up to the plate?"

Gina took the chance of interrupting, "Excuse me Pamela, but she's got a point. Anger is a good thing if it helps you stay alive, if it helps you fight back."

"It feels ugly, and un…uncomfortable. I…get so tired when I feel it. I just want to go to sleep. I want to forget."

"See. She's a coward. COWARD! You can never defend them, you can never fight for them. You'll let them be blown up."

Now Pamela snarled, "Fuck you, Pam. They're mine and I will stand in the way of anyone who tries to harm them. But I will not hate John Ross, you hear me. I hate you for what you did, driving him away. He is a good father, and I need him to help me protect them from whatever is coming. So stay away from us! We don't want you and we don't need you. I can fight on my own. I got my eyes wide open."

"Oh yeah. Then why have you got Pammie hanging around if you're so tough?"

Gina interrupted now. "Excuse me. I think that's good enough for now. That you two have met. We'll talk to Pammie another day."

Pamela looked at Gina in a panic. "What am I going to do now? I don't want her here in my head. She's still here. She's a bitch."

"Pamela, this is where you have to be open. She's a part of you. The more you two can stay together the better it will be."

"I can't have her talking to me all the time. I can't live with this conflict inside of me."

"But darling, listen, what if I tell you it's for your own good. Try. Try to withstand her presence. Listen to what she has to say, weigh it. Maybe you'll see that she is right sometimes."

"I hate her."

"Perhaps. But realize that you're hating a part of yourself. And you can't disown that part, otherwise it will live as a dissociated personality. You're stronger if you're together."

Pamela left the office that day feeling like there was a collar and chain around her neck, weighing her down. She wanted to love, and Pam wanted her to separate herself from everyone. Pam wanted to be alone, disconnected. Pam didn't want to feel vulnerable in any way.

She only got some relief from the incessant dialogue in her head when she and Regine took the babies down to the beach that afternoon and played with them.

"Look at that, R.J. Do you see the fish? Let's chase the fish! Do you think they can see them?" she asked Regine.

"Potentially, yeah. Their reflexes are better than ours. It's just a matter of getting used to seeing things."

"Oh my goodness. That's so fascinating. I'll have to google that."

"I know. It's so cool. I think if I wasn't going for pediatrics I'd like to study neurobiology."

"Yeah? That's…brain development, right?

"Uh-hum."

"How old are you, Regine?"

"Twenty eight."

"How come you're still single? You must beat them off with a stick."

"Uhm. I think I'm too intense, too bossy for most of them."

"Bossy? Naw, you're sweet."

"Ha ha ha. That's the first time anyone has ever said that to me."

"Maybe we're two peas in a pod."

Pamela now lifted John Robert up like he was a champagne glass and they were making a toast, "Here's to assertive women."

"And to men who don't mind them." Regine now proposed her own toast.

"And to men who are men enough to love them," Pamela modified.

Regine lifted her own baby and they chinked them, like goblets. R.J. said, "Ha, ha."

"Did you hear that? He laughed!" Pamela exploded into laughter and they spent the rest of their time trying to recreate the event.

Days and days of this playing in the surf and visiting places on the island that Regine wanted to show her created an uplifting routine to her life. Thanks to Regine's indomitable energy, Pamela looked forward to her days.

That night, on her bed, Pamela sat with her tablet. The boys were down and Regine was out. She started thinking of John Ross. Past the anger, where Pam just wanted her to punch him for leaving them, she started to feel a little compassion for him. He was her baby. He was out there alone, he thought he was unloved, and he felt he deserved to be discarded.

She knew he would be watching over them, though. It was just in his nature. He needed to cross all the i's and dot all the t's. So she uploaded the pictures she had taken on the beach that day to the cloud drive she and John Ross had started when they were on the island the last time. They had been very careful not to grant access to anybody else, nor to leave any of the pictures on any physical electronic device. Everything got erased after being uploaded to that cloud drive. But even more important than that, they never uploaded anything with a reference point to the island. Nothing at all that could be traced back to St. Kitts. This meant no scenery shots, only close up pictures of people and indoors.

Pam took a chance tonight though, and uploaded the pictures of the boys in the water. The underwater ones were her favorites. She knew these would elicit strong emotions in their father. Maybe enough to keep him connected to them.

When Christopher got back to work at Ewing Global he had a nasty run-in with Nicholas Trevino in the men's room.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in." Trevino said, as he stood elbow to elbow with him at the urinals. "I thought you were on vacation in the Riviera. Or was it Cancún? It certainly wasn't the Alternative Energy conference in Chicago, was it?" he sneered.

It did seem to Christopher, though, that he was merely fishing. The best way to throw somebody off was to play dumb. "You know, I don't know what you're referring to, but it sounds to me like you feel you have a right to keep track of my movements or something. What is that? Care to explain that to me?"

"Now you're being ridiculous, Christopher. Why would I have a need to know where you are at all times?"

For reasons he couldn't quite explain or justify, it was only three days later than the last time and Christopher went to buy a burner phone again, so that he could call down to the island. It seemed his curiosity was just too much. Or maybe it was the sound of a certain voice that was making him feel homesick.

"So, how are the boys?"

"Oh, they're great."

"And their mother?"

There was a slight pause. "She's doing well too."

"So things are boring."

"Not quite. But then, maybe we don't look for excitement in the same way all you big city boys do."

"Touché."

Pause.

Christopher had to qualify. "Well, to tell the truth my idea of excitement has changed. How are those swimming lessons going?"

There was a detailed description that ensued and provided food for many minutes and for much laughter and disbelief.

"So what do you do in your spare time?"

"I step out to my mom's place."

"That's it?"

"I'm hitting the books pretty regular too. Trying to keep current with my studies."

"When will you go back to finish?"

"Oh, in a year or two, when I scrape up enough money. I'd like to have enough for my last two years, so I don't have to interrupt."

"Wow, can't you borrow the money?"

"I'd rather not. It's not so easy, without collateral."

"How did you do your undergrad?"

"Oh, it's free here. You just have to pass an exam."

"Really? Undergrad is free?"

"Yeah, sure. What is it like where you're from?"

"Well, basically, it cost's as much as buying a house. Those who want to study can't afford it. And I guess those who can afford it, like me, aren't motivated."

"You seem plenty motivated."

"That's because I had a girlfriend I was trying to keep up with."

"Oh."

After a pause she risked it. "So what happened to her?"

"Nothing. She still works at our company."

"Oh."

"And she's having a baby with our…partner."

"What about you, Regine. What's your romantic history?"

"I have none."

"That…that can't be true."

"I don't usually lie."

"You haven't had a serious boyfriend," it was more of a statement.

"Not serious or unserious."

A hundred questions were in Christopher's mind. But the most salient was: was this girl untouched? Obviously, it was not a question he could bring up. But it created such an itchy curiosity he dreamed of making his way back to St. Kitts sooner rather than later. He also dreamed of lazy days on the beach and a chocolate face with luminous brown eyes.

In another place, hard toed hiking boots crunched thru the snow, finally making it into a place of some warmth, stomping off the snow and then taking a table in the bar. Along with the beer she provided, the big busted waitress flashed him a smile. The drinker pulled out a cell phone and started surfing the internet.

On the screen now could be seen warm Caribbean beach scenes. The viewer focused closely on the faces of the women and babies.

Another figure now sits down next to the first and lays a riffle on the table. A gruff voice says, "Heard you were looking for me."

The face is that of an ugly, bearded, extremely rustic looking man.


	26. Season 2, Episode 12 - Wolf Hunter

John Ross and Pamela, season two, episode 12 – Wolf Hunter

"Heard you're looking for me," the man said, as he lay his rifle across the table and pulled himself up a seat.

John Ross asked, "And who might you be?"

"Roy Silver, Wolf Hunter."

"Yeah, I am putting together a crew to drill on my oil lease. It's eight hours north from here. Do you know that country?"

"I'm Gwich'in Athabaskan."

John Ross wasn't sure what was the significance of his tribe _vis a vis_ the lease location. But he assumed that meant he knew his way around. "They keep telling me I need a wolf hunter. So, I'm not from these parts, could you tell me exactly what it is that you do?"

"I keep the wolves off your crew while they work. "

"I see. And is that strictly necessary?"

The man looked at him long and hard and then said simply, "Men won't work without a wolf hunter."

"Alright then, you're hired. We leave at the crack of dawn. Can't tell you how many months we'll be up there in the wilderness."

"I'll work as long as the job lasts," he said, standing up. "Or as long as there's men left alive to do it."

Somewhat melodramatic, John Ross thought. Or maybe the man sought to inflate the value of his services.

It didn't sit well with John Ross' environmentally friendly approach to oil drilling to be hiring someone to kill wildlife. After all, when he'd heard secretary of the interior Ken Salazar talk about allowing additional oil and gas development in the National Petroleum Reserve in Alaska, what had appealed to him was the spin about protecting wildlife and the subsistence rights of Alaskan natives. As an outsider he didn't know exactly how true that was but at least he assumed it prevented them from selling drilling leases in the most sensitive parts of the reserve. He had no interest in disturbing the caribou herds that more than forty native villages depended on.

For that matter, he could have sought offshore drilling leases in the Arctic sea instead, but just the thought of an oil spill like the Deep Horizon one in the Gulf gave him the willies. On shore drilling appealed to him much more.

"No, just a land well, dug into the ground is good enough for me," he said, as he swallowed the last of his beer.

The smiling waitress appeared almost immediately, "Can I get you a refill for that?" she asked, "Or anything else?"

"I'm good, thank you."

He had absolutely no interest in what she was offering. John Ross was thinking about spending his last night in a comfortable bed (and with any degree of privacy), looking at the pictures on a certain cloud drive. He made his way up the stairs and to his room, taking off only his boots and pants before he got into bed. He now examined every photo and laughed at each one. Then he cried looking at them again. His arms ached to hold his boys. He was so damn proud that they were swimming like Trojans. His amazing, strong boys.

Regine looked very well. He was glad he had hired her, she was a good influence and apparently she and Pamela were getting along well.

As for Pamela, he touched the screen as if he were touching her. "You be happy, baby. It's your turn. Let it all go."

Mama Joy was in the terrace, sitting in the hammock. She dozed off for a while, as Pamela was settling the boys for their Sunday afternoon nap. Regine had gone out to the market for diapers.

When Pamela came back into the terrace with a pitcher of lemonade she looked at Mama Joy and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of compassion. Mama Joy looked worn out.

Just then she woke, somewhat startled. "Oh my, I just dozed off here. It was that good food you cooked me, dear. So nice to have someone cooking for me."

"Is it, Mama? You don't get much of that, do you? We're always taking from you." Pamela said.

"Child, don't be silly. I do what I do because I love it."

"Doesn't mean you don't get tired."

"No, you're right. My feet sometimes hurt me."

Pamela gave her a glass of lemonade and said, "Wait a moment."

She came back with a tube of lotion and said, "I'm going to give you a foot rub, the way John Ross used to give me when I was pregnant." She sat on a pillow on the ground.

"Oh no, you're not. My ugly feet." Mama Joy tried to hide them.

"Your beautiful feet. I won't take no for an answer."

Mama Joy started laughing as if someone were tickling her ribs, instead of rubbing her feet. But it was in order to disguise her extreme dismay at what was happening to her. Her whole upbringing was being challenged. She had been taught to treat outsiders (especially white outsiders) with extreme courtesy and kindness, and to never, ever expect anything in return. There was no such thing as resentment in her heart, she was incapable of it.

But it was almost alarming to her, to allow this young woman to perform such a service as rubbing her worn and swollen feet. She found herself speechless and closed her eyes so as to not cry.

After a while of silence Pamela asked, "When can you retire, Mama?"

"Oh, that's a long way off." She answered.

"Really? Why?"

"Too many people depending for their living on that restaurant."

"Yes?"

"Plus, I don't want to depend on my children to feed me. They've got their way to make still. Godwin's company. And Regine's got to get to the end of her schooling."

"Can't you sell the restaurant and live off that?"

"Wooh!" she laughed. "Who'd want to buy my old shack? The stove is going bad. The fridge is failing everyday. I keep it together with tape and bandaids."

"Mama, you have the best recipes on the island, yours is an authentic island restaurant, with an established clientele and ambiance. That's worth money. I know these things. I studied business."

Mama was looking at her as if she had lost her mind.

"I'd buy it."Pamela said, in surprise. "I'd buy it in a heartbeat."

They heard Regine come into the house from the driveway now. Mama Joy said, "Please don't talk about this now." She put her sandals back on. Pamela understood she did not want her daughter to witness her as anything less than a strong woman.

"Alright. I'll come see you tomorrow." Pamela whisked the lotion away.

That night while Pamela was nursing John Robert she had a visitor.

"Huh. Never heard such a crazy idea. Buy a restaurant." Pam sneered.

"What's so crazy about it?"

"You're a crazy woman, with some serious psychological problems, and you're thinking of taking on more than you can chew."

"True. But I need a distraction. What do you want me to do? Lay around crying over my husband who's left me?"

"You'll leave me holding the bag every time one of the boys starts teething. I know you, you can't handle it all."

"Ha! That's where you're wrong. I CAN handle it all. And if I send you in my place, what's wrong with that? You're supposed to be another me, anyways.

"I'm tired of being kicked around. Left to do your dirty work. You're the supermom and I'm the slave." Pam's bitterness showed.

"Slave? Gosh that's harsh don't you think?" Pamela couldn't help but feel compassion now.

"Yeah, I'm your slave. You whip me, you kick me, you make me do all the excess stuff you take on, and really can't get done. You're weak—"

"I'm not weak. Stop calling me that!"

"Well, you're unrealistic then. You don't realize how you get overwhelmed. All your life you kept trying to please other masters, your mother, your father, society, the perfect model, you've got the worst superwoman syndrome I've ever seen. But when the stomach starts to ache, when the shit hits the fan, when the anxiety is gnawing on your bones, you shut down and send me in. TIRED of doing your shit!"

"Alright. Alright." Pamela was speaking out loud now. "What do you want me to do?"

"Think about what you're taking on. Don't overload. Ask ME if I want to do it. Ask yourself if you want to leave the boys. 'Cause that's what you do every time I take over."

"I…I never thought of it that way. Sorry."

That advice was uppermost in her mind the following day when she met with Mama Joy at the restaurant.

They sat at the back table, the family table, side by side, each with a glass of star fruit juice in front of them.

"What's the recipe for this?" Pamela asked, eying the delicious thing she had just tasted.

"No recipe, darling. Just throw it in a blender."

"Really, and then what?" she asked. "See, it's not so simple for somebody who doesn't know."

"What you getting at, girl?"

Pamela reached for her hand. "Mama, I want to help you. What do you need?"

"I need to keep my nose to the grindstone, baby. That's all."

"How about a silent partner? I'll front the cost of new equipment you need, and you give me ten percent of the profits."

"Profits? Ha ha ha. Darling, after I finish paying the folks that work here I barely take home a penny. I can't even pay my little girl's room and board so she can finish school."

"Okay, okay. I don't expect any profits!"

"Listen here, Pamela. I don't take charity—"

"Mama. Listen, before I risk offending you, and ruining this friendship that means everything to me, let me tell you that what I'm offering you has nothing to do with charity. I used to be a pretty ruthless business woman where I come from. If you work with me I'll show you that everything you have here is worth money. You think it's just hard work and some good cooking. It's more than that. It's what we call a brand, and a brand is worth a whole lot of money in the business world."

Now Mama Joy looked out at the sea and said conversationally, "Darling, if you're thinking of growing my business and getting more customers in here that's not going to help much. I can barely keep up with what we have now. We're full every day. If we have to produce more meals, we'll have to take on more workers, and this place is already bursting at the seams. My garden is good, but that would have to grow too."

"Okay, what If I can show you that without changing a thing, we can increase your revenue stream."

"How?"

"How about a recipe book. You can sell it right at the counter, when people pay."

"Darling, I don't know nothing about making a recipe book. Everything I cook is in my head. And it's just what my mama taught me anyways. I've taught you how to do some of it. Anybody can do it."

"Oh no. No-no-no. I beg to differ. You're one of a kind. Your daughter can't do what you do."

"She's destined for more important things."

"Mama. Let me take down your recipes. Photograph your magic and this place. I'll make a book, and from there we'll share the profits. The content is yours, the formatting is mine. If I do the marketing right, it will generate a passive income for both of us. In the meantime, I'll front the money for some of the equipment you need."

"I can't be taking from you and your babies." Mama said. "Especially right now."

"Mama. John Ross left us well provided for. You wouldn't be taking anything from us. I have some money of my own I need to invest and I think you're a really good business opportunity."

"Excuse me." Mama left the table to check on something. Pamela felt she wanted time to think. When she came back she said, simply. "Alright, ten percent."

They sealed their contract with a hug and Pamela said, "I'll come by tomorrow and we'll make a list of the equipment you need."

Pamela thought on the way home that she had to make sure their contract specified Mama Joy had a high salary before anything was considered profit. The last thing she wanted was for Mama Joy to turn up at her doorstep with ten percent of her cash register take. The woman was so painfully honest she might do that before she took her own cut.

John Ross had fallen asleep with the phone on his chest and woken up to the rude vibration of the alarm at six a.m. It promised to be a cold and brutal day. The first of many more. He was exhilarated.

They had been on the road for four hours and the GPS was telling him at some point this little dirt road was going to end. He could only hope when this happened the terrain would still allow them to advance further north. They were traveling in a caravan, composed of two four door long bed vehicles and a larger truck with a trailer on its flatbed. That trailer had four bunks on either side of its interior. It would be their sleeping quarters.

John Ross had spent several very busy weeks gathering a crew and equipment to start exploration and drilling on his lease. The window of opportunity before the ice froze him out was a few very short months. He had no idea what they would find in this remote, untouched piece of wilderness. The only thing he knew for sure was that the airborne reservoir pinpointing technology his contractors had used to map the Global Energies leases had revealed a substantial reservoir on this site.

It looked to be the richest of all the leases Global Energies had. And that is why he stole it. Legally, of course; by dumping it on the open market and letting his little front company, DIG, scoop it up.

But was it really stealing when you walked away with something that belonged to you in the first place, after some Mafiosos stole your company?

He had saved Global Energies tens of millions of dollars by using this new Stress Field Detection technology to gather oil intelligence from the air. He'd bypassed ninety percent of the cost of exploration. But it didn't show exactly where to drill or what fluid types they would find when they did. The seismic studies now needed to pinpoint that were expensive. He wondered how long his Wall Street nest egg would last at the rate he was spending.

Even though he was a-wall, he had no intention of becoming a deadbeat dad. The monthly check to Pamela had to keep going out.

He had no intention of being an absent dad either. He would go back ... some day. When she had settled her life and he could stand to be near her again, without wanting to fall on his knees before her and bury his head in her waist.

That was just impossible right now.

That's why he was out here on the ends of the earth. That, and a certain obsession to find oil and build his fortune.

"Alright, this is it." He spoke to the driver and the two other occupants of the Toyota Tacoma. There should be a smaller road or trail in the next five hundred meters, let's keep our eyes open."

It was dense and forested ahead. If there ever was a trail it had been grown over by now because they didn't find it. "Pull over."

He got out and the crew followed suit. "Alright. We need to cut through now, and end up another four miles north of here." He showed them the map on his phone. "There's a bonus in it for the first guy who finds us the best way in. We may have to build our own road in, but it can't have too much of a slope 'cause we've gotta haul barrels back out of here once we hit oil."

Roy Silver spoke now, in a tone that brooked no argument. "That'll have to be for tomorrow. It's getting dark. Time to piss and shit and chow down in your bunk. In that order. Nobody leaves the truck once it's dark."

John Ross was slightly taken aback that the man would supersede his orders. But the speed with which the others obeyed his directions made him think there was a good reason for them. Later that night, when he heard the eerie howling of the wolves outside, he was extremely glad he had hired a wolf hunter.

Note to readers: Even though I can't reply to them individually, I want you to know that I absolutely love your review comments. I'm thrilled every time you write me, and I laugh and cry with you.

Also, Etta Garber is only my pen name here on Fanfiction. My real name is Rhea Harmsen. If you'd like to read other stuff I've written search for me online and at Amazon. I've published 4 novels. 


	27. Season 2, Episode 13 - Risk

"Christopher, I should hang up, you know, I have to work tomorrow morning," she said, just to give him a chance to get off the phone if he wanted it. After all, they had been talking for a good forty five minutes.

"Just stay a little bit longer. Stay with me," he pleaded.

"What time is it there?" he asked.

"It's twelve or one, I don't know."

"Don't you have to be up for the babies feeding anyhow in a little bit?"

"No, I don't. Pamela does it by herself now."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I think they're almost sleeping through the night. Both of them. At least John Robert is, because I never hear him and he would wake me up. 'Course they get up awfully early."

"Wow. But that's so exciting they're sleeping through the night. That's big isn't?"

"Talk to me about your work. The company. How's it going over there?" Regine asked. He had talked about everything except himself.

There was a pause, and then he said, "I don't want to depress you."

"You can depress me. That's what I'm here for."

"Really?"

"Yeah, that's what friends are for."

Christopher let that one go. He hoped they were on the path to being more than friends. But if this was friendship he wanted it for the rest of his life.

"So tell me. What's depressing you?"

"Basically, I'm coming to realize that all my dreams are ruined. You know, ever since I was in college, all I wanted to do was start this company, help develop some clean energy. Restore my family's name in the energy business. Make my father proud, you know."

"Yes," she coaxed.

"And now, I see that because of this horrible entanglement with the cartel in our company, there's nothing to be salvaged. It's all going to go down the drain."

"Well, then you'll have to start again. Start anew."

"I don't know. I think it's all spoiled around here. Too many criminals with their fingers around our throats. It would be dangerous. I wouldn't want to raise a family here now."

"Well there lots of other places in the world that need clean energy. Every island in the Caribbean is horribly dependent on outside resources. Broaden your horizons. And don't give up, no matter what you have to do."

"Yeah. I guess I'm speaking to the queen. The queen of don't give up."

"That's right," she laughed.

"Did I ever tell you the story of how I schemed to get to medical school?" Regine asked.

"No, tell me." He was loving this.

"I'd gotten admitted, you know, into medical school, but I had no money. I needed money. I needed, an awful lot of money for four years of med school. How am I going to make it? So I hear somebody saying the Miss Universe pageant is big money."

"So I say, how's this tall skinny girl going to win the Miss St. Kitts and Nevis crown? I have no poise, I have no charms, just a brainy student all my life."

"So I get my aunties to make me a dress. So they work really hard and I enter this competition and my neighbor does my hair and they do my nails. All this stuff I never had any use for. And they get me all spruced up, you know, so i enter the big contest. A week at the big hotel some of my cousins work at, making beds. Nobody in my family could ever afford to stay there. And surprise, surprise. I win!

"Wow. That's great!

"No. It's not so great. That's when the hard work starts. For a year I have to hustle, to get my travel money, sponsors for my shoes, my make up. Money for my dresses and costumes. To pay for it all. It seemed like such a waste. Money going down the drain. But, I have to represent my country. At the end of that ordeal I only managed to salvage enough for two years of medical school."

"But that's my dream, you know. Nothing and nobody's going to stop me. Even if I'm forty years old when I finish, I'm still going to be a doctor, because that's what I have to do."

"You're an inspiration to me, Regine."

"There you go. There you go, use my story."

Later, Christopher reflected how far she had come to make her dreams come true and the fact that the only thing standing between her and her dream was money. Money had never been an issue for him, in getting his education.

He became so consumed with the thought of her being able to finish that he made a call to the Granada Medical School to find out exactly how much it would cost to finish those two years.

He realized he had it sitting in his bank accounts. He had an executive vice president's salary and no one to spend it on. And he could think of no better use for that money than to put Regine through school. But the challenge was, how to give it to her? He was pretty sure she would never accept the money.

So he called back the Dean of Saint George's Medical School and asked about becoming an anonymous donor of a scholarship in the name of a certain young person. He stipulated that if she refused it or questioned it's source they should inform her that it would be given to another student. It was a chance he was willing to take in order to keep her off the scent. But then he realized, that if she suspected him she would simply ask him. And he didn't want to have to lie to her. So he would have to make himself scarce and stop calling her. That was the only down side.

Pamela was sitting at the kitchen counter working on her tablet. She had continued where Christopher had left off, trying to track John Ross' departure. It wasn't enough to post pictures on the cloud drive. There was no response, she didn't know if he ever saw them. She wanted to find him.

Unfortunately, there were an awful lot of flight destinations from San Juan airport on the day that he had left. She sifted through them, trying to find anything that would make sense or ring a bell, or seem like a John Ross Ewing move. "If anybody can find you, baby, it's me. Because I know how you think. And I'm not giving up till I find you. These boys need you. I need you."

Regine walked in at that point, holding her cell phone.

"What's the matter?" Pamela asked.

"I'm in shock," Regine answered.

"Why?"

"I…I just got a call from my medical school. It was the Dean. They are calling me back."

"What do you mean?"

"Apparently someone's... they've found a scholarship and they're offering it to me." She looked up in confusion.

Pamela didn't hesitate. She got off her stool immediately and hugged her. "That's wonderful!" she said.

"It's so unexplainable," Regine answered.

"What does it matter?" Pamela said. "Take it. Take it! Your mom will be so happy!"

"Did you do this?" Regine asked, suspiciously. "I mean, I know you love my mother."

"I wish. But I don't have it. My resources are counted. I don't know when my husband will be back, if ever. I have to look out for my finances."

"I couldn't agree more. That's why I wouldn't want to take it."

"Regine are you crazy? Why are you looking a gift horse in the mouth? You told them you would take it, right?"

"Well, not yet. I thought I had to talk to you first. I made a commitment to John Ross to help you take care of the babies."

"Listen to me. I will be fine. You have to do this. You have to go on and become my baby's pediatrician. He he he." She started giggling. "Girl, what's wrong with you. Go! Go and follow your dream. Call that Dean back. "

Regine still seemed rooted to the spot, so Pamela said, "Come on, I'll help you pack," and pulled her arm.

Regine wanted to talk to Christopher. She had a suspicion that she wanted to verify. But she had no number for him. He was the one who always called her. "Call me. Call me now."

Christopher was busy with other matters. The CIA had pulled him in for one of their secret meetings.

"God, I hate it when you guys do that," he told agent Patricia Barker when they fake-kidnapped him and brought him to a secret location.

"You must realize you're being tailed night and day by the cartel," she said.

"I know. I can't sneeze without being videotaped doing it."

"Well, then don't complain about the precautions we take."

"Alright what's this meeting about?"

"We want you to approach Elena Ramos."

Immediately, Christopher went on the defensive. "What for? You can't use her. It's very dangerous. You have to keep her out of it."

"We are of the opinion that she can be made to turn against Trevino," the other agent, Lloyd, spoke.

"Are you insane? Her brother disappeared, probably killed at the hands of the cartel. What do you think will happen to her if they even suspect her?"

Barker said, "Christopher, listen. We have evidence that she was in collusion with Trevino to hijack your company. Wait, wait, let me finish. We're not saying she knew about the cartel. We don't think she knows even to this day how corrupt her boyfriend is?"

Christopher frowned.

"But sooner or later she's got to know. It's better if we tell her than if she pokes around and starts to suspect something. We are giving her a onetime only chance to turn on him and show us where the bodies are buried. And then, we will slip her into witness protection immediately."

Christopher had a very bad feeling about this. Of foreboding.

But the agent kept talking, laying out the CIA's plan. "We've tracked her movements. She takes the baby to see her mother every Tuesday. We want you to confront her at that time, with her mother present, and convince her that this is her only chance of getting out."

The other agent, said, "We'll come into Southfork and whisk her away right then and there."

Now it was Christopher's turn. "Great plan, yeah, great plan. And what excuse am I going to give for being at Southfork in the middle of the day? Huh? When it all goes down? Trevino is very jealous of me and my prior relationship with Elena. He doesn't want her anywhere near me."

"Hopefully, with the evidence Elena can give us, we can finally shut him down."

"And if you can't? He will be like a cornered rattlesnake and he'll come back and strike."

On the Tuesday in question Christopher sneezed so many times at the board meeting that his aunt said, "You know, Christopher, you should be in bed and not here infecting the rest of us with your flu."

"I think you might be right, Suellen. I'm sorry I came in myself. I'm going home."

"We'll hold down the fort. You just get better," Suelen smiled.

Nicholas Trevino made an excuse at the end of the next agenda item, for a bathroom break. He immediately took out his phone and called Elena.

"Hello, darling. How's the baby. How are you today, I left early."

"We are excited. You know Tuesday is our day to visit abuela."

"I know, I know, I remember. And that's why I am calling. I don't think it's such a good idea for you to go there today. Christopher has just left here to go home with the flu. I thought if you knew, you wouldn't want to expose the baby to that."

"Oh, but we're already here." Mama is making me lunch and we're having such a good time. Don't worry, I won't let him anywhere near the baby."

There was only silence.

"Tell you what, I'll go to Mama's place to put Andrecito down for a nap, and she can bring my lunch over. Okay? Don't worry, Daddy." She laughed.

Nickolas took several deep breaths to calm down his anger, when he hung up. He had no other alternative than to go back into the board room.

Christopher walked into the kitchen at Southfork and surprised Eli's mother taking a tray out. "Carmen, where's Elena?" he asked.

"In my apartment. Why?"

"I have to talk to you both."

"If you want I can get you some lunch, too."

"No, thanks. The last thing on my mind is lunch."

"Christopher! No, stop, you can't come in here. I heard you have a cold." Eli tried to stop him from coming in.

"From whom? Ah. Nicholas." He said. "Don't worry, I don't have a cold. I only said that to get out of a meeting."

Elena frowned. "What's going on?"

"Elena, sit down. Carmen, don't worry about the food."

"Eat, m'ija, before it gets cold."

He had them both at the table now. And he was heart sorry for the shock he was about to give them.

"Elena. Huh," he wanted to drag his feet. "I know you conspired with Nicholas to takeover our company."

Carmen gasped. "Is it true, m'hija?"

"I have proof. Lot's of it. But I don't care."

Elena now spoke. "I had my reasons. Cliff Barnes showed me the seismic studies on my father's land. There was oil there. Your family stole it from mine."

"It could be. I don't plan to deny it. J.R. might have played your mother dirty. I don't know."

"That's it? You don't know?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. You are in danger. Your baby's in danger. Your mother's in danger."

"Christopher, what are you talking about?"

"Nicholas Trevino used you, to get a foothold, but he wasn't working for Cliff. He was working for the Ochoa Cartel."

"Oh my God." Carmen was starting to cry.

"They have taken over Global Energies, in order to launder money. It's true. Our family has been working with the CIA, to try to get them. But it's a horrible mess and there's no end in sight."

"Nicholas is not like that—" Eli tried.

"You have no idea what Nicholas is like! He owes big money to the cartel and they own him! He cannot take a step without them knowing it, and he can't have any loose ends. Not ever."

Eli covered her mouth with her hands. "Christopher, I…I can't believe any of this."

"Why do you think John Ross and Pamela are gone? Because the minute he found out about this John Ross took his family out of here."

"Santo Dios," Carmen was beside herself. "Was…is…Andres involved in any of this?"

Christopher put his hands over hers. "The CIA has found evidence…that Andres was murdered. And they think Trevino ordered it. Andres might have found out what they were doing."

"Oh my God. O my God. Oh my God."

"Listen to me. Both of you. Grieve for him later. Right now, you two have to be strong and save your lives."

"Elena," he looked directly at her, but he didn't know if she could take it in. "The CIA has offered to get the three of you into witness protection, and to get you out of here. Provided you cooperate with them and give them everything you know of his movements."

"I swear to you, I didn't know anything about the cartel. I don't know how useful I can be."

"Don't tell them that. Just take their offer and run with it. Once they have you in witness protection they can't take it back."

The two women looked at each other and in one instant, they made their decision. "When do we go," Carmen asked.

"Now." Christopher said. "You leave everything behind. No goodbyes to anyone. We'll just ride out to the west meadow and you get on a helicopter and leave."

"Christopher," Eli had the baby in arms now. "I'm sorry Christopher, I'm sorry I lead the snake into our company. I'm sorry for everything."

Christopher hugged her now and said, "Just make a new life. And never look back."

"Carmen, we're going to need a lot of your prayers. Please keep them coming." He hugged her too.

"Tell your father…I don't know what to tell him. I'm so ashamed."

"Carmen, you've been nothing but good to us."

When he'd gotten them on the helicopter he stood there, watching it until it was just a pin prick. It was a good thing. But now all hell would break lose. He had to really perfect his poker face for what was coming. And tonight, the family had to have a strategy session and get their stories together. Carmen had asked for time off to visit relatives. Elena had come and gone from Southfork in the afternoon, leaving her mother off at the airport. Nobody had seen them since.


	28. Season 2, Episode 14 - The Big Picture

SEASON 2 FINALE

Christopher still remembered when Trevino came to Southfork, the day Elena had been whisked away by the CIA. He showed up at 8 pm saying he couldn't get her on the phone and that Carmen wasn't answering her phone either.

When Bobby told him Carmen had asked permission to visit relatives and that Elena had dropped her mother off at the airport he didn't believe it. He insisted on seeing Christopher, even though they told him he was sick in bed.

Christopher had put on sweat pants and gone downstairs shirtless.

"Where is she? I know you've done something with her." Trevino said through his teeth.

"Oh yeah? What reason could I possibly have? I haven't run away with her. I'm standing right here."

"I know you two have a past together. If you think I am going to stand for-"

"You said it. We had a past together, as far as I know the past is over. I thought you two were like two love birds, but now I'm starting to get suspicious. Did you beat your girlfriend Nickolas? What possible reason could she have for running away from you? Maybe we should get the police involved here."

Nicholas started backing away to his car. "I'll call them myself. Maybe she's had car trouble, or phone charger trouble."

"Yeah, I know. If you hadn't wasted time coming out here to make stupid accusations you might have located her by now."

The following day when he asked Trevino if he'd found her, he mumbled some excuse about her being with her mother. But the tension was always present in Trevino's demeanor, and he felt his dirty looks on the back of his head and in the hairs standing on the back of his neck.

Pamela was in the restaurant, handing Mama Joy a check for her share of the proceeds from the sale of her cook book and the monetization of her web site.

"Woooh!" she yelled. "How is this possible? Look at all the zero's on that figure. Girl, did you steal a bank?"

"I told you there was money in your brand, Mama." Pam was fanning the sleeping boys in their double stroller. The heat today was oppressive and they were sleeping out of sheer heat exhaustion.

"You sure did, honey. But I must admit, I thought you were a little bit crazy."

"Then why did you let me do it?" Pam asked in surprise.

"Because you needed something to do."

Pamela looked at her long. "I was kind of drowning in self-pity, wasn't I?"

"No more than I did, when my children's father left me."

Pamela too a sip of her drink, "How did that happen?"

"I still don't know, till this day. He was the love of my life. But he always had this unquenchable thirst in him. He hopped a boat for Trinidad and Tobago one day, and we never heard from him again."

"Oh my God." Pamela was gripped by a primal fear. "How…how do you live with it?"

"Well, I long since lost my love for the man. I put him in God's hands. If he's dead, then it's too late. If he's still alive, then God forgive him. Either way, it wasn't my doing. I'm not at fault."

"But how did you survive…"

"I worked my hands to the bone. I had two children to raise. I focused on them. There's a whole world of disillusioned women out there. We live for our families. Men can be a liability."

It seemed she was done sharing something so painful. "Let me get you some lunch, honey."

Pamela looked after her retreating figure. Mama was not a figure to be pitied. She saw life in clear strokes. Like a painting with sky and mountains and waters, where one was only a small figure in a bigger picture. Pamela wondered if she would have to live her life like that too, the self receding to a small size, while unknown currents took charge of your life. This was something that connected them.

Her cell phone ring drew her outside of her reflections. "Hello?"

"Pamela, it's Suellen, dear."

"Suellen, this is a surprise. How are you?" She had a sharp intake of breath now, "Have you heard from him?"

"No, darling. We haven't. I'm calling to give you some news. It's not good news, darling. So brace yourself."

"What is it?"

"It's Christopher. He's been shot."

"Oh my God. Oh my God. What should I do? What can I do?"

"Nothing, darling. He's in the doctor's hands. They're working on him. There's nothing you can do here. Just stay safe where you are."

"But who did this?"

Suellen told her about the CIA, and Elena's giving evidence and then being sent off to witness protection. "They suspect that somehow, Trevino found some evidence of Christopher's involvement."

"So this was a hit? Oh my God."

For the first time she was glad that John Ross was a-wall from Dallas. It could have been him. Oh, how she wanted him home, safe and sound. Not wandering out there in the world, where something similar could happen to him.

"Suellen. Send me a picture of Christopher in the hospital. Just as soon as he's out of surgery."

"A picture?"

"Yes. Send it to me immediately."

She had barely hung up with Suellen when Mama Joy came and offered her another phone. "Got a call from that girl of mine. She's knee deep in cadaver dissections but she still finds time to bother me every day," she said with mock impatience. "She wants to say hi to you."

Pamela was still in shock but she extended her hand and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey. How are my boyfriends?"

"Regine. Oh." Pamela whimpered.

"What's the matter with you?"

"I…I just got a call from Dallas."

There was a slight pause. "Christopher? How…how is he? Haven't heard from him in months."

"He's been shot."

"The cartel?" she asked.

"How…how do you know about that?"

"He told me the danger he was in. I pray for him every day. Is he…"

"He's in surgery," Pam hastened to add.

"Listen to me, Pamela. Tell your family I'm coming. So they know who I am and don't think I'm some agent for the cartel."

"Regine, you can't. It's too dangerous. They…they'll trace you back here. Back to us."

"No they won't. I'll take every precaution. If he came to St. Kitts without leading them to you, then I can go there. I have to." She said, firmly.

"It's like that, huh?"

"Oh. You have no idea how I feel about this man."

"I'm glad he has someone like you, Regine. Don't worry, I'll let them know you're coming."

John Ross' lease was in the county of Beechey Point in the basin of the Northern slope. They did all their due diligence with the seismic studies so as to be very accurate in the drilling phase. He struck oil with the first and only well he put in.

The lease was located in the easternmost corner of the Alaska Petroleum Reserve so when they hit oil the plan was to ship the crude out by tanker trucks to the Prudhoe Bay refinery due east. From there the oil would travel through the Trans-Alaska Pipeline System down to the Anchorage region to be shipped out from the southern Port of Valdez.

When he left with two of the guys to drive the first load of Alaskan crude to the refinery, John Silver gave him instructions about avoiding the wolves during the trip. "You don't get out of the cab. You piss off the cab step. 'Cause you won't know when you are passing through a coven."

"Shit. You're serious." John Ross had heard the campfire stories about wolf coven territoriality so he didn't question his instructions.

A lone wolf on the hunt was something that could be managed. Silver had killed a number of single wolves intent on eating his men, and earned his pay. But if your lease happened to be within the boundaries of a coven then God help you. Silver had told him of one driller that had refused to heed his advice to abandon the site once they'd discovered they were in coven territory.

"He didn't live to tell about it," he put it succinctly. "And neither did his crew."

Arriving at Prudhoe Bay after a grueling eight hour drive, John Ross and the crew members he'd brought with him took rooms. He would be leasing two oil tankers tomorrow and they would be driving them back. From now on the work would consist of pumping and hauling. He was on his way to making his fortune.

He wished he could have celebrated this with his family somehow. But he hadn't talked to anybody in nearly four months. Tonight he would have some privacy to look at his picture gallery, and that was all the comfort he would get. To see his boys growing up, to see their mother happy.

He was rudely shocked when he opened the cloud drive, therefore, and saw the picture of his cousin Christopher in a hospital bed. Underneath it was the caption "Christopher was shot. Call home."

He didn't waste one single moment. He wasn't thinking about his own feelings now. That didn't matter.

"Hello. Pamela, it's me."

"John Ross? John Ross? Is that really you?" She was crying.

"Yes, ba… Yes Pamela, it's me. How…how are you doing? Tell me about Christopher. Is he still alive?"

He had to wait through her crying for his answer. He wanted to say soothing words, words of love. But he held them in check.

"Come home. Please come home. We need you," she pleaded.

"I will. I'll get the first flight out."

"Tell me what's happened, dar…Tell me."

"We don't know. We think it's the cartel. He was working with the CIA. He had helped get Elena into witness protection. Your uncle Bobby thinks Trevino might have targeted him out of revenge. He's out of surgery and in the ICU. They think he's going to be alright."

"Damn."

"Listen Pamela, don't you worry about a thing. I'll go straight to Dallas. We'll get to the bottom of this. I promise you."

"No. NO! You can't go to Dallas! I want you to come home. I need you here, with the boys."

Now he was on alert. "Pamela. As much as I can…understand your wanting to be there for Christopher, I don't think you should go to Dallas."

"I'm not going to Dallas! I want you to come home. Do you hear me?"

"I…"

"John Ross. I love you. I want you to come home."

"You…" His heart loosened it's death grip, as if it were melting. But he couldn't speak.

"I am so mad at you for leaving me. I was not well. I…there's so much I have to explain to you. When you sent me divorce papers, and ABANDONED me, I collapsed and went into the hospital."

"What?"

"My sanity was threatened and we…we discovered I had been functioning…with multiple personalities."

"I don't understand."

"Well, apparently there are three parts to me. One which endures my pain, one which suppresses my anger, and one which defends me."

"So. Is there one of those parts that hates me?"

Silence.

"The greater part of me loves you. But there is some of me that harbors some anger and resentment. Can you deal with that?"

"Baby, so long as there's a tiny part of you that loves me…" he spoke with a breaking voice.

"John Ross, where are you? How could you leave me? Do you have somebody else?"

"No, I don't. And I never will. Baby, the reason I left was I was trying to do the right thing. Set you free."

"I don't want to be set free! Get that through your head."

"Pamela Barnes. It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life. The only unselfish thing. But as usual I made a big mess. Please forgive me, baby."

"I love you. Now tell me where you are," she was still not sure she could get him back.

"I'm in Alaska, baby. And I just made us a fortune."

"Alaska? Oh my God. Why didn't I think of that? Tell me."

They talked of his find, of the months of grueling work. "Now it's a race against time to get it pumped, but this well promises to deliver at least half a million barrels over time."

"And, and the lease is yours, clear and free?"

They talked of it some more. When he was recounting his maneuvers she realized how attracted she was to this side of John Ross. The side that could scheme so expertly, the Taurus that could put down his head and push through a cold and untamed forest, the man that had such an excess of energy he could take down any obstacles. His drive was what she loved about him, what made him sexy.

"It's also what eclipses you. Makes you a mealy mouthed rag doll in his presence," a voice in her head taunted her. "Are you sure you want him back?"

"Well, I've been making a modest fortune here too," she said.

"Ha ha ha ha," he laughed in sheer enjoyment.

"What are you laughing about?" she asked, wary.

"Well, you're the woman who bought and furnished the perfect house from a hospital bed, ha ha ha ha." He seemed to be rolling in his myrth, "I wouldn't expect you to do any less from a psych ward. Ha ha ha ha."

Now that she knew she wasn't being made fun of, she told him all about how she had worked with Mama Joy, to document her recipes and everything about her restaurant. She had published it all through the self publishing industry and then started sending copies of the finished book to marketing firms. She'd hired a marketing firm. She'd made a book trailer, a video of Mama Joy preparing her amazing food and it had gone viral and boosted book sales. "It's a whirlwind of activity, all from my kitchen table, I'm building an empire from the Mama Joy brand."

"Baby you're amazing, you know that? Only you could be such a hot, ass kicking mama."

"I love it. I love everything I'm doing. The only hole in my life is you. I miss you. The boys miss their daddy."

"Tell me everything about them."

He had to plug his phone in because he was running out of batteries. The same happened with her. They were interrupted by the babies needing their mother. She put him on speaker phone. It was hours that they stayed on the phone. They caught up on every minor detail of their separate lives. Nothing was too trivial to be shared. It was as if they drank from each other's cup.

When Bobby picked Regine up at the airport he had a sign with her name on it. He had no idea she would be black. Pamela had completely neglected to mention it. Being a gentleman, he didn't let his surprise show.

"Hi, Regine. Welcome to Dallas."

"Thank you for fetching me, Mr. Ewing."

"I understand my family has a lot to thank you for," he said to her, as they walked through the parking lot. "That you and your family have been there for my family when we couldn't take care of our own."

She didn't accept or decline the thanks. "How is your son?" she asked.

"He's a strong man. He's holding his own. But he hasn't opened his eyes yet."

"So you really can't tell how he is yet. Where exactly is his injury?"

This woman was more straightforward than any he had met. She did not seem to be extremely sentimental. He wondered how that worked, with Christopher being as sensitive as he was.

When they got to the hospital parking lot, she said, "I've been thinking about this, Mr. Ewing—"

"Please, call me Bobby."

"I think it would be best, if I'm not seen to be with your family, if I just come and go as a member of the staff."

"How will you do that?"

"I brought my lab coat and my stethoscope to put around my neck. I think I can keep a low profile."

"So you're a doctor?" Bobby now thought that perhaps he'd misunderstood. He wished he could ask some direct questions without being rude. The words "friend of Christopher's" had a whole lot of vagueness about them.

"Not yet. I'm a third year medical student."

"Oh. Good for you."

Again, there was a terse silence.

"If I may say something about your plan?" Bobby said.

"Go ahead."

"You're too pretty to go unnoticed. You might want to buy some glasses in the giftshop, and cover your hair."

She nodded as she got out of the car.

Regine had a single purpose. To get to room 4370. Her heartbeat was elevated, she knew it, she could feel it. How could she have been so brazen as to come here? He'd probably already forgotten her. She was just his sister-in-law's nanny. How would she explain it?

On the other hand, if what she suspected, had suspected, ever since she'd gone back to Granada, was true, then it would be another matter. If Christopher had arranged for her scholarship, then Christopher was a generous, heroic being. More, he might have feelings for her that he'd expressed only through his financial generosity. She'd thought about it a lot. He'd been calling her pretty steady there for a while. They'd spent hours on the phone, deepening their "friendship." Every time she'd given him a chance to leave, he'd begged her to stay on the phone.

Then, very mysteriously, a scholarship had appeared for her, and immediately after that he'd stopped calling all together. Her intuition told her there was only one hadn't pursued her in order not to jeopardize her studies. He didn't want her gratitude. But what if he wanted her love?

She came out of the stairwell onto the fourth floor and followed the number signs. It was a busy floor. She passed a family waiting room and saw Mr. Ewing sitting in there. She knew she was close.

By the time John Ross got in a helicopter that day to fly down to Fairbanks to catch a flight home, he had tied up all the loose ends. He'd left instructions to the crew foreman for the pumping and hauling. He'd promised the crew a bonus for every tanker, to keep the incentive high. They wouldn't slack off if it was in their interest. The insulated modular shelter he'd provided would make the cold bearable, but once the ground was frozen they would be unable to pump any more.

John Ross Ewing's helicopter never made it to Fairbanks. Somewhere between Prudhoe Bay and it's destination, it went down in the Alaskan interior.

END OF SEASON 2


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